


Kadou

by kakuhou



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alpha Akechi, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, M/M, Omega Akira, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Slow Burn, if akechi doesn’t have free time then he will MAKE free time, thirstmachine akechi from the get go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-04-23 21:31:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14341317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakuhou/pseuds/kakuhou
Summary: In which Akira has his sense of smell repressed as one of the conditions of his trial during probation and Akechi is his sad true-mate-of-an-Alpha who can’t seem to catch a break because Shido keeps ruining his life without even trying. It couldn’t get any worse.(Akechi is a man dying of thirst in the Sahara and Akira is the oasis he will never reach.)





	1. april 09 (coreopsis)

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, please praise ai who co-wrote several scenes with me for this fic. she is an ANGEL and she is akira’s voice in this chapter.
> 
> second of all: no beta. this is a hot mess. a hot mess of A Lot of words, but i promise it probably won’t be this bad as the words flow. (hope...fully... ISN’T HOPE STRONGER THAN FEAR?) if you would be so kind as to tell me if there are any errors, i’d appreciate it.

_You— change— believe in— your good heart—_

—

 

Akechi Goro didn't have days that were out of the ordinary.

His routine was a simple one rarely broken by anything other than _business as usual_. He didn't have to worry about things as meaningless as friends (a younger him would ache) and outside of his business contacts, fans, and classmates - none friendly enough to count as anything significant, all faces he's passed and smiled at - there was no one to visit or be visited by on a personal level. 

The life he lived was fashioned around a comfortable routine that would one day build up to a comfortable life once he accomplished what he set out to do over two years ago.

 _Was_ it almost two years ago?

The train shook minutely and he glanced over his book, the light catching below everyone’s feet. His eyes closed, the words of his book flashing behind his eyes, and when he opened them again all that he could see was an empty train car in murky green hues. There were red footprints leading to where he was sitting and he smiled, at peace with reality.

The people only piled back in to his vision after the flash of Metaverse bled away and he blinked, focus returning to his book.

Yes.

Two years of routine.

It wasn't supposed to be broken by anything, let alone a scent wafting through the air in near-mid April.

He didn't notice it was first, as engrossed in his book as he was, sitting in a corner seat keeping to himself with his silver attaché case caged between his legs. Among the other scents on the train, it seemed inane, though somewhat noteworthy if only because he could smell it amongst the others. His suppressants usually dampened that among things for the sake of general ease, but—

Akechi could smell it— could pinpoint exactly where it was as it grew strong enough to override his earlier nonchalance. 

Its owner was on the train with him, at the other end, a little— curious, he guessed. Nervous? Not exactly out of the ordinary with the train accidents these days (what a life he half-lived), but also nothing he usually paid attention to. Why worry about someone else's slighted nervousness when he knew everything was going to be perfectly fine? It wasn't this train route that would be touched by the taint of politicians.

(He already did _that_ , already planted the seeds, and was simply waiting for them to be sown. Beautiful, bright red flowers, just like the ones he saw at the Mall every now and again in passing.)

However, it was bothering Akechi now. 

The scent clung to the very oxygen he breathed, the air that flowed through his nose when he closed his mouth, agitating something deep inside of him that was usually very, very quiet. Tamed. Never rampant and always under both of his thumbs, never this sort of rumbling, chaotic purr, as if it was awoken by this fresh spring smell. Akechi found himself wanting to bathe in it, and that— that was a thought: to sit there with the desire to bask, let the sunlight roll over him in waves, and let the leaves in the garden and on the tree branches provide him shade while he napped.

His very own garden of happiness where nothing else existed but himself and, perhaps, whomever this scent was coming from.

His Alpha was stirred further by a sudden spike and he was putting his book away in his case - shift, open, set, click, push - and rising to his feet before he knew it to seek out its owner with case in hand.

As he got closer, however, Akechi couldn't help grabbing an errant pole in one hand and resisting the urge to cover his mouth— cover his face, too, the entirety of it, because it felt like he was being slapped in the face with something that just wasn't completely connecting in his brain, but made him want to lay on the floor and roll around. It was all instinctual, his next few steps, his eyes searching even though he had no idea what to expect that was waiting for him at the end.

It certainly wasn't a fluffy, unkempt head of black hair and big glasses. _Unassuming. Innocent._

'Surprise' was an understatement, but— he found it wasn't disappointment, strangely enough. The feeling curled in his chest pleasantly, all blossoming warmth and pretty pink petals, and his hand was grabbing for the pole nearest to this— his—

(Everything. All of it, every little thing, every single moment, it all led up to this.)

His mouth opened, his eyes widening as he took in the boy's soft features curiously and, after some deliberation, softly greeted, "Hello...?" 

Akechi wasn't sure why his tongue felt so heavy while his mind felt so clear and focused, zeroed in on this one person, his throat and charisma stuffed with cotton, but— he was sure as hell going to find out, and it would be right here and right now.

The already nervous - distressed, Akechi identified - scent became clouded with unnerved apprehension as the owner turned gray doe eyes on him and said, "...hello?"

The _back_ was quietly implied in the low dip of the last syllable. Akechi dutifully ignored it with no difficulty because he was way too caught up in what shoved itself up his nose and lodged itself there.

He shouldn't have been to be on this train today. If it weren’t for _Shido_ and the press conference being cancelled, Akechi would’ve been heading to a different sort of work.

" _Oh_ ," he toned quietly, mouth opening and then closing again. That's—

He felt like he got punched square in the gut with adrenaline and it had absolutely no place to go other than to his throat where it worsened the cotton into a lead lump. All that Akechi wanted to do was take this person apart and bathe himself in his very essence. The scent, upon further inspection, was all fresh greenery and— it had an age to it, it seemed, stubbornly clinging to him in its strength.

_Alice in Wonderland, Lord of the Flies— The Hobbit?_

In the chatter of the rush around them, the mix of scents on the train, the sweat and the heightened emotions— _all that I can smell is you_. It was starkly surprising in a train full of people who smelled mostly of fresh sweat, unexpected, and Akechi was lost in it and his tunnel vision. He recognized the uniform from _Sae-san's_ family member belatedly, Makoto, and from observations on other days when he had to visit Shujin Academy to see the Principal.

Business, always.

For reasons mostly unknown to others, of course. It was only a few times, but the uniform was black and white with very little color in between (Shujin was just _prison_ , wasn't it), so it stood out— or maybe it just stood out because this student smelled like heaven and its gate, its clouds, its primarchs—?

Akechi felt like he didn't deserve it. 

Him. 

But, he wanted it anyway, desired it so acutely and sharply that it honestly startled him back to the reality of the situation where he was probably coming off as entirely creepy and not at all as composed and put together as he was trying to project. He was _surrounded_ by people, some of them even giving him a second glance as if they recognized him, so his mask should've been held together. Perfect, even, with not a single crack along the bulletproof glass.

Why was there any need to feel so off-kilter? It was just another day. This was just another person.

Project. Present cleanly, clearly: _I am responsible, mature, and pleasant, and you should be comfortable around me._

He opened his mouth again and fought passed his dry throat to speak. _Where did all of your vaulted charm go_ , Loki mocked. Robin Hood being quiet was strange enough, but Loki’s malice surprised him.

Regardless, Akechi had to get on with his life.

"Good morning. My apologies for disturbing you," there it is, just keep going, "It's just that... How should I put this?" _I can smell the edge in your scent all the way across the train. I want to roll around in it and tell you that everything will be fine and you'll never have to know suffering again._

Ho boy. Hooo boy. Amongst the sound of squealing rails, Robin Hood’s smile was the loudest.

Trying to recover, Akechi simply continued, "...I'll just come out with it: how are you today?"

It must seem strange coming from a fumbling stranger - Akechi would definitely think he had ulterior motives and he was sure on one hand, he did - but he wanted to connect the dots. His head just wasn't understanding it. There was something missing here— the question had an answer, but he only had the question and the understanding that usually came after having the answer. Where was the answer itself? He was interested, eager, in finding out.

Thankfully, it seemed like this person would be plenty happy to cooperate with him for the time being because he answered, his scent dipping as if he were on the other side of an interrogation table and Akechi was fishing for a crime. _Interesting._

"I'm fine... Thanks? What about you?"

"Ah, redirecting the question back at me? I'm quite well." Although he was entirely bothered, it was hidden under the veil of his normal TV-grade smile. But, if he said he was fine— it seemed dumb to just blurt out _you smell like I never want to leave your side_ , so he settled for something far less ignorant, something Loki didn't seethe at. "I had assumed something was wrong— you smelled a little nervous."

If there was one thing he was thankful for in a world where there existed people who could scent out other people's thinly (or thickly) veiled emotions, it was the fact that he was born an Alpha rather than a Beta. Being able to tell how someone was feeling from scent alone was a godsend and quite possibly one of the few goods things to have ever happened to him in his life.

But, Akechi wasn't about his own life at the moment. No, he was more focused on the person he was seeing in front of him, all fluff and fuzz and— and, Omega? _Yes, that's what that undercurrent is. Omega..._ The other half of an Alpha. Sweet, as opposed to heady, or at least— that was what Akechi always knew Omega to smell like whenever he encountered one.

This one was... different. It felt like he was back on that class trip to Inaba, sampling the countryside air and taking in the soaking steaming warmth of the hot springs.

"Although, I suppose that's not the case right now. Perhaps an out-of-the-blue distraction was all that you needed?" Akechi was prodding for a reason because he could only assume so much, but— what was a normal conversation where he wasn't picking someone apart from the marrow and sinew? Could he have a conversation without questioning someone?

That wasn't for today. Today— right now was for trying to figure out what attracted him to this person's scent and not leaving him alone within the plains of politeness until he figured it out. Even now Akechi was taking him in from top to bottom, from the glasses Akechi could see through from where he was standing (non-prescription, unneeded, the only mask society would accept) to his bag that he kept to his chest for space and something to clutch, curiosity written on his face and etched into his eyes which was likely Akechi's fault. 

What did he have to hide?

(Alpha? Omega? There was something there, he knew, a connection that he wasn't remembering—? What was it?)

"...That's perceptive of you," he heard his current interrogation target settle for saying. He thought the other option was to just stay silent and ignore him, but Akechi had a nagging suspicion that he knew that wasn't going to stop Akechi from talking to him. He seemed to think about what to say next before he spoke up again, quiet, "I'm hoping I don't miss my stop."

Even though his scent spiked and waved for a moment, sinking into Akechi's skin like it belonged there, Akechi could hear the finality in his words: he no longer felt a need for polite conversation. 

Unfortunately for him, Akechi wasn't known to let go once he sunk his hooks in to his prey. His more recent target learned that the hard way.

But of course, Akechi, having grown up a little more rough than most, knew when he was truly annoying someone. He knew when he was unwanted and he knew precisely how to avoid those sorts of situations - it was why he fashioned his mask from a young age, always ever so careful that he didn't step on anyone's toes so that he wouldn't have to be put in that sort of situation ever again. As soon as he was old enough, in fact, he made absolute certain that he left that situation, and even if the one he was in now wasn't ideal it was miles ahead of where he was at before.

Akechi made sure he took care of himself. If he didn’t, how would he ever reach his goal? Simple logic like that was something small children were capable of.

And so, his mask wouldn't fall; it stayed carefully in-check, pleasant and open-closed, as he gentle informed the curious stranger with his slammed up walls, "Oh, don't worry about that. The operator will come on overhead to inform us when the train is coming to a stop."

It was just a rule when one rode the train.

 _Are you my_ —

(My? My...?)

Like an epiphany, the blocks fell right in front of his face and his smile almost melted off in retaliation. Akechi had to keep his metaphorical hand over his helmet while everything crashed and burned around him, thinking, _this is fine_. If that was what it was, everything would come back to zero for him... And perhaps that really was fine considering what _he_ was considering doing after the game.

 _Mine_. 

What did the strong scent of an Omega become when it was so special that you could pick it out from a crowd of people when you've never met them before? 

Mate. 

Fated, that was, and Akechi was once more in the throes of fate's hands, as much as he _loathed_ it. Like everything in his life, this was out of control.

Not his choice. His mother's suicide, his father's identity, the Persona given to him, the blood on his hands (no longer his choice)—

It didn't seem like it was requited, either, because he wasn't acting out of sorts like Akechi was. Akechi instantly hated him upon that realization, his brain working itself to figure out why.

Was there something wrong? Broken nose? Messed up nasal cavity? Sick? 

It made him want to grit his teeth and stomp away while simultaneously dragging this person along to investigate. The thought of leaving his side was— overwhelmingly a 'no' right now in his hind brain.

_Just keep talking. Everything will fall into place._

"Where are you headed, if you don't mind me asking?” He finally spoke up with a smile made of cotton-lined steel, keeping himself cordial and friendly. “I'm on my way to this coffee shop in Yongen-Jaya— one of my coworkers gave the coffee and curry there a shining recommendation, so I thought I'd go ahead and try it for myself."

The stranger's - his mate, his life, his fated - shoulder jerked and he directed a surprised look up at Akechi, responding after a moment, "I'm headed to Yongen-Jaya, too. I guess that means I'm not missing my stop."

Whatever had ailed him earlier and drew Akechi over was long gone. His curiosity - ashen, the top wisps of smoke from a bonfire - prevailed over any other identifier and for that, Akechi was thankful.

"I see... since we're going in the same general direction, I will accompany you partway," though only partway since it seemed as if this person wasn't going to Leblanc. It was a shame, but— but it didn't look like he would be _far_ , Akechi supposed. He could find him again, accidentally run into him, bump heads and mouths and other limbs—

His scent was already imprinted on him, as much as Akechi didn't particularly like the fact. There was no getting rid of Akechi until he confirmed that this bond was exactly what he thought it was. Yongen-Jaya itself wasn't too big an area to traverse with straight streetways and comfortably tucked buildings and corners; Leblanc itself was just a straight path down the street and to the left, according to Sae. They would probably have to part ways at that intersection.

Continuing, Akechi edged a softer smile the stranger's way and, half-genuinely apologetic, said, "I apologize— I'm the one who bothered you, and yet I never introduced myself. I'm Akechi Goro— and you are?"

"Kurusu Akira," the now dubbed 'Akira' replied. "And it's okay. I'm not sure it'd be any different if you introduced yourself first." 

His words felt like a jab, spicy sass-lined syllables, but before Akechi could comment beyond a stifled _sniff_ , the subway speakers began announcing the next stop.

 _Yongen-Jaya_.

"We're here," Akira toned once the woman on the speakers quieted and the train slowly stopped rattling all around them. His eyes had flickered upwards, but dropped back to Akechi to speak, gaining himself another smile.

"So it seems. It's a pleasure to meet you, regardless." He spoke his words alongside laugh, more TV personality than _Akechi Goro_ , but he took Akira's barb well enough in stride. Akechi brightened and he turned away with Akira's scent in his nose. "Well then, Kurusu-kun, shall we?"

He was all pleasantries once more, diligently waiting for Akira and making sure there was space for them both - his eyes spoke levels of how much he did _not_ want other people touching and rubbing themselves on his... his _mate_ (it felt like a dirty word when he thought about it too hard) - as they got off of the train and took to exiting the station. His body was a shield in the station and his eyes and scent were brands for anyone who dared venture too close.

Leblanc was only a hop and a skip away, so he squinted in the distance and looked for the alleyways, ever mindful of Akira's presence at his back, and then his side. Akira was following after him with a quiet _Right_.

They managed to make it to Scramble Crossing before Akira’s voice pulled Akechi ramrod straight from his mind, glancing at Akira’s phone and seeing a flash of red pass before—

"Huh?" 

Akira only seemed slightly miffed by the appearance of the icon, but Akechi knew his own scent was spiking from clogged up anxiety. The red and black app blew up on the screen, engulfing it completely, and he wasn’t sure whether to brace himself or pull up his own to exit.

On guard or not on guard, Akechi Goro had no intention of letting Kurusu Akira go. If Akira was his enemy, he could make quick work of him despite _fate_. It could very well be a mistake, or Akechi could be Akira’s second as opposed to his first. But— even Akira was puzzled.

He didn’t know.

Did the app just pop up on his phone? He could be a very good actor, but his scent would’ve given him away. Akechi was so attuned to it in the moment that any change was quickly logged and categorized in his mind’s file room.

When he thought about that, he was already looking at Akira to make sure the crowd (or the Metaverse, heaven forbid if Mementos suddenly spilled over because Akira slipped) didn't eat him alive when that crowd oh so suddenly decided to stop.

Stop everything. Moving, talking, breathing, chewing, and Akechi just so happened to get his breath stuck in his throat. Akira himself didn't seem to notice and Akechi, for whatever danger he actually was capable of putting Akira in in a heartbeat, was at Akira's side like a knight gravitating towards his prince.

At the very least, he hadn't changed into his Metaverse attire. If something went array again, he'd have to— to think of something; a different outfit, maybe. It had to be something lighter, something more fitting for a hero of justice, and not black and blue and a threatthreatthreat.

" _Kurusu-kun_ ," he hissed, having a vague idea why they were the only ones moving. "Look around us." _Tell me I'm crazy and that I'm seeing things and that we should just move on because I know you can't be my enemy and the only thing in this world I have to live for other than revenge._

Akira did look up and around and seemed to be naturally surprised to see that everything had come to a grinding halt— everyone except the two of them. ( _He doesn’t know_ and _he could be pretending_.) When he glanced beside him, to Akechi, it was clear from the look on his face that he was assessing that whatever had just happened hadn’t affected him either. Akira’s eyes quickly scanned around the area, presumably searching for anyone else _not affected_ , and Akechi’s eyes followed only to find searing blue flames in the distance. 

Akira seemed to stare at it longer than necessary and Akechi’s hand rose as if to call forth Loki—

But before either of them could make sense of it, it was gone. 

Akechi’s widened. He blinked. 

And everything else was just as it should be and always had been. 

"Akechi?" 

Akira shot him a confused look that spoke volumes of what just happened. Maybe if Akechi was quick-witted enough, he could convince Akira that they simply shared a fever dream.

_..._

That confusion was too genuine to have been faked. This was the first time this had happened to Akira and he had no idea what to do about it other than to question and trust Akechi’s own eyes. His confusion tasted like cement, thick and grainy and absolute. 

“I know," he nodded, doing his best to pass it off as if he were just as confused as Akira. Akechi could safely assume that Akira... was not an enemy, but still had access to something particularly dangerous. (Was that wishful thinking?) He needed keywords, but the fact that time froze like that...

Akechi didn't want a repeat of this incident. He was even more hesitant now than ever to actually leave Akira's side.

Shaking his head, he pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed. "That wasn't..." Normal, he wanted to say, as if he knew what the difference was anymore, as if red and white were any different than black and blue. "...maybe we should get going." 

His body burned with questions, but he simply tightened his hold on his own attaché case and waved the hand that was previously on his forehead.

"We can talk about it later," he said, letting the implication sit. "You have somewhere you need to be, correct?"

“Ah, yeah. It's around here... I'm looking for a house." 

Coming off from that surreal experience, Akira didn't quite notice the fact that Akechi seemed all but ready to follow him to his destination. 

(As if he'd let Akira just walk off non-escorted when the entire world just stopped all around them because the Metaverse decided to start playing games.)

Akechi trailed behind him, taking in the buildings in the alleyway, all worn and old, but still holding strong. None of them were familiar, but he took them in anyway and noticed the officer before they passed him, offering a smile on the way. He earned himself a gruff nod and assumed that was that.

He wasn’t exactly close to anyone in his work place. Connections like that were useful, but in the end nothing that he particularly needed on a personal level. The connection in front of him, however...

As they walked down the road, looking for the residence that Akira had talked about, Akechi thought about it some more. Having a true mate was no doubt dangerous for him - it was like fighting fire with gasoline to be frank - but even he had to admit that thinking he wasn't alone in the world anymore was a tempting one. With Akira, here and now, he finally understood what his mother had been talking about when she spoke of bonds.

They were simply the ravings of a woman going half-mad from depression and rejection, but Akechi _understood_. That was a start.

They reached wherever Akira needed to go quickly, Akira stepping up to the gate and ringing the bell. Akechi noted a nameplate - Sakura Sojiro - and a deliveryman balancing a box in one hand while the other scratched the side of his head.

"Sakura-san... isn't he—" He murmured, his hand to his chin as he thought about that. _Sojiro Sakura is... Futaba Sakura's guardian_ , and from what Sae was telling him: he was also the owner of Leblanc. _So, we're heading the same way after all_. It was such a funny coincidence that he almost didn't believe it.

But, as if to confirm that, the delivery man mumbled something about Sojiro being at the cafe and Akechi perked up, turning to a confused and lost Akira once more to provide guidance like any good Alpha would be wont to do for an Omega.

"—well, it makes sense for a business owner to be at his place of business," he said, finally, his face schooled perfectly into neutrality. "It doesn't look like anyone will be answering the door, at least, so let's head to Leblanc. I'll lead the way."

"You'll lead the way?" Akechi's words had puzzle pieces falling into place in Akira's head and the revelation was evident from the look on his face. "... Is there only one coffee shop here in Yongen-Jaya?"

What a day this was turning out to be.

"...my coworker, Sae-san, mentioned that a 'Sakura Sojiro' was the owner of Leblanc," he half-confirmed and half-smiled. "I can't imagine there are many Sakura Sojiros in Tokyo, so he has to be the one you're looking for. Funny coincidence, isn't it? I guess you could say we're—"

 _Fated_.

The tips of his ears immediately began burning when the word almost slipped off of his tongue and, flustered (and reminded of Akira's scent, dear God, Akechi was going to die if he didn't get to the bottom of this soon), he quickly turned away from Akira and started heading down the road with a fussy, "—a-anyway! Let's get going. I think I'm really craving that coffee now more than ever."

Off-kilter. Foolish.

Akira was smiling at him when Akechi looked back at him, opening his mouth and saying, "I guess that's true, it'd probably be more unlikely to have two Sakura Sojiro in Yongen-Jaya... So, it must be fate?"

_Oh no, oh no, oh no, that smile will be the death of me, oh no, he's cute, oh no._

Someone who was certain and bound to want him. Did that person truly exist?

"Yes, that's right. It must be fate."

A nervous sweat was building at the back of Akechi's neck, his heart fluttering under his rib cage as his sheer desire for Akira Kurusu grew to a size that Akechi was beginning to despise for the way it made him feel. He didn't feel deserving of that ever growing warmth, and yet he wanted to cage it and never let it go.

When given water, a man in the desert thirsts so deeply it chills.

(Don’t forget the Metaverse. There’s something _wrong_ —)

Swallowing passed the lump in his throat, Akechi reeled himself back in with enough time to get through Leblanc's door and have the door open for Akira to come in behind him as well. Inside of Leblanc, there was an old couple at the table and the tv droning in the background (about the train accidents, something Akechi tuned out for the moment because his mind felt fuzzy), and a man sitting at the bar with a crossword in hand talking about... fish?

Once Akira was safely inside and nothing was amiss, Akechi hummed over the homey atmosphere and greeted the man once he noticed they were there. "Good morning. You must be Sakura Sojiro," he said, all friendly air and nothing awry as Sojiro basically confirms his suspicions as his eyes land on Akira at his side. 

Akechi turned his smile to Akira (matematemate) immediately. The elderly couple took Sojiro's attention with their oncoming departure and talk of the accidents ("This place is in the back alley, so there's no worries of a car crashing here."), so Akechi took Akira's attention for the moment. 

"Here we are. It looks like you're going to deal with something important, so I'll let you go to do what you need to do." He was quick to make a soft noise as the old couple passed them and went out the door, however, and added, "If you need anything, however, I'll be down here for a while. I have some work to get done, but I wouldn't mind holding off on it if you needed something."

 _Don't be a stranger_ , basically, even if Akechi was curious about what was going on. He figured he'd ask Sojiro later, as it seemed like Akira was about to take Sojiro's attention for a while.

"...Four hours and just a single cup of joe," Sojiro said with an aggravated sigh, eyes closed and a hand on his hip. He looked to Akechi then and opened his mouth only to meet Akechi's palm cutting him off.

"It's okay. I can wait a while for you and Kurusu-kun to be finished," he said, giving him his best smile.

Sojiro's eyes were as grey as Akira's, his head nodding as he turned his attention to Akira and said, "So, you're Akira?"

Akira managed to get out a tentative, "Please take care of me," before Akechi wound down and took a seat at the bar, listening in on the ensuing conversation with both ears even as his eyes swept down to his case and he lifted it onto the seat next to him.

Their conversation dropped a few interesting tidbits of information for Akechi to soak up about his new friend. His first few ramblings were about assuming Akira would be an unruly kid and that he was in his custody for the next year. 'Custody' wasn't a pretty word when it had a deadline that like and Akechi wondered just what landed Akira in this situation in the first place. 

They were heading up the stairs a heartbeat later and Akechi was left to strain his ears for the rest, clicking his case open and squinting.

It wasn't pretty. Sojiro's tone was cold and detached, unfriendly for a business owner; Akechi supposed that Akira wasn't a customer, so it was okay, but instead a stowaway up Leblanc's stairs. Akira mentioned something it being _big_ , and Akechi caught bits and pieces afterwards, threats to throw Akira out that had Akechi's brow up to his hairline and his blood boiling at the injustice, and what followed was even worse. Akira was in Tokyo on _probation_ and had to live with a stranger for the year it would last because he— _assaulted_ someone while trying to protect a woman who was under attack.

He was willing to bet that Akira's probation had something to do with why Akira wasn't losing his mind over Akechi's scent.

"In other words, they got rid of you for being a pain in the ass."

Akechi took his laptop out and opened it a little more forcefully than he'd like, his eyes glazing over with memories unbidden. The rest of the conversation was mostly tuned out in light of it, fuzz in his ears and cotton clogging the rest of his senses. He glanced at the worn yellow phone to his right, the books following the line of coffee grounds, the register, the shelves of beans, the gloss of the counter he was sitting at— anything to pull him back from the cold before Sojiro came back down.

He reached the science lab set up at the other end of the bar, beakers and stoppers and thick glass, before that inevitably happened. 

Upon Sojiro's descent down the stairs, Akechi broke from his thoughts and tried not to look like he was trying to develop pyrokinetic abilities to set his facial hair on fire. Loki's Maragion— it would be amusing if only he could. He held on to the hope that it would please Akira for a moment, but then immediately shut that thought down. 'Custody' meant guardianship, which meant that he had to rely on this man to take care of Akira.

It was unfortunate that Sojiro seemed to be a practitioner from the school of tough love. It was better than the orphanage, but..

If Akechi dwelled on it for too long, his mood would plummet further. It was best to let his thought go until he was alone.

Sojiro seemed to radiate as much curiosity as Akechi himself when he came around the counter with a soft apology, and the conversation started once Akechi calmed down and ordered his coffee.

"...was it really necessary to treat him like that?" He asked, his frown both thoughtful and a little offended for Akira's sake. He traced the rim of the cup with the tip of his index finger idly, not waiting for Sojiro's response. "I'm sure he won't cause you any trouble down the road."

His coffee was delicious when he finally raised it to his lips and drank from his cup, giving time for Sojiro to speak. "And you can tell that just from looking at him?"

"I was the one who guided him here. Not once did he give any indication that he was 'trouble'," Akechi ground out a little more forcefully than he'd like on any other day, reigning in his temper as quickly as it sprouted its ugly head. That wouldn't do for his public image. "I don't believe you have anything to worry about."

Sojiro was quiet for a moment before he hummed a soft, "Uh huh," and continued on with a curiosity unveiled, "I take it you two knew each other before he came to the city?"

"No. We just met on the train ride here. He seemed a little out of it, so I thought I would help him since we were heading the same way," Akechi answered, his lips pursed. "Although I admit, there was something about him that I was curious about as well."

"Something about that kid?"

"Yes. He..." There was no good way to go about it, was there? It wasn't like he could just slam this down on Akira without knowing what was going on, especially when it looked like the situation was exactly what Akechi both dreaded and anticipated. "He can't smell, can he?"

It would make sense. It was the only plausible reason, now, that Akira hadn't reacted to the scent Akechi was sure he had been giving off to Akira: hot, single true mate, right in front of you, ready to do absolutely anything he wanted to do to have Akira in his arms. 

The scent had drifted upstairs with Akira, but it still clung to the air around him with the tenacity of a mosquito hellbent on its next meal. It was just as irritating, too, although Akechi wasn't sure if the irritation came from the situation, how he just watched and heard someone treat his life mate, the issue with the Metaverse, or all of the above. His coffee was doing little to calm his thoughts.

Thankfully, Sojiro answered him and the world seemed a little bit brighter with it.

"Yeah. The scent blockers are part of his probation— to keep him from getting into any 'instinctual' trouble," he said, squinting at Akechi over the counter. "Why do you ask?"

_He's my true mate and I think I want to tear him away from here and run my hands all over his skin in the middle of Station Square so that the entirety of the city knows he belongs to me._

Instead of answering immediately, Akechi wheezed softly into his coffee and shook his head. When his voice came back to him after he drowned his gravel in coffee, it was a soft and deeply internally insecure thing, quiet as a mouse.

"...this might be a little rough for a while, then. If he can't smell me, how am I supposed to tell him that we really are fated?"

It took Sojiro two clicks of the coffee maker to fully get it and his jaw dropped around the same time that the clanging began upstairs, immediately grabbing Akechi's attention as if an anvil fell over his head and knocked him flat on the ground. He looked up and then towards the stairs when the banging around didn't stop after a few moments, worriedly drawing his brows together.

The question ( _May I_ ) went unsaid as Sojiro sighed and raised his hand to rub the bridge of his nose.

"Go ahead. Honestly, what is he even doing up there..."

Akechi was out of his seat like a bat out of hell and halfway up the stairs attache case in hand before he called out for Akira admist what he saw to be a war zone of literal shit.

"Kurusu-kun? Are you okay?"

A fluffy black head popped up from his right and Akechi saw Akira to be in the middle of moving one of the dusty boxes lining the landscape. His scent was mixed in with the dust, but it was evident enough by the look on Akira's face - the furrow of his brow, the peak of his lips - that he was curious.

"Oh, you're still here?" If he'd let the question linger longer, it would've come off as a sign of annoyance. But instead, Akira continued on. "I'm cleaning up. It's pretty cluttered." 

"'Cluttered' is certainly one word for it," Akechi aggressively agreed nearly as disgusted as he looked, setting his briefcase down on the side of the table nearest to him and pulling the gloves on both hands tighter up his wrist and around his fingers. He fixed his disgust quickly, offering a tentative smile. "...would you like some assistance? I'm sure that with both of us, this should be cleaned up quicker."

And they'd likely get through more than if Akira cleaned up by himself. If Akira was his, then Akechi had little choice. He had to make the space as livable as possible. Sticking his neck out for Akira behind his back—

Well, Akira didn't need to know anything about that.

"Besides... fighting this war against the dust bunnies doesn't seem like something you should do alone."

"The dust bunnies are pretty prolific..." Akira murmured in agreement. "But are you sure you want to be helping me? Don't you have somewhere you have to be at?"

At this, Akechi watched him look him up and down, and realized that he looked like he had business elsewhere. That was easy to fix.

"Ah, don't worry," he said, following Akira's gaze with some regret that there was no heat to it. Akechi shouldn't be getting ahead of himself. "I just carry that to take my work home with me. I can afford to work on it later. The dust bunnies take precedence right now."

If all else failed, he could blame it on the fact that he was a little bit of a clean freak. The roomba and various cleaning supplies that he had at home could certainly attest to it. Akechi offered Akira his best smile and moved to eye the mess all around them with critical seriousness, squinting into the dust-filled, Akira-scented air.

_Responsible, mature, pleasant. Perfect. The crowning ideal._

"Now... shall we begin?"

—

Two hours passed before Akechi finally agreed that Akira wouldn't choke on dust bunnies in his sleep. There was still clutter leftover - books, a bicyle, and maybe a plant underneath everything, and a cover over the books, plus some miscellaneous things here and there that Akechi neither cared for nor was sure Akira would have any use for in the future - but working together paid off. With Akira's duster and the mop (and broom, and general liquid cleaning supplies) Akechi managed to squirrel away from a fairly confused Sojiro, they had most of the dust and dirt vanquished from the world of the living.

In Akechi’s mind, there was no worse death than being choked by dust bunnies in your sleep. Probably. There were likely worse ways, but dust bunnies were the devil’s concoctions— cobwebs were somewhere behind them, followed by incessant hoarder clutter where spiders could fester and live as they pleased. 

Akechi made _absolute certain_ that he took his repressed frustration out on every single surface imperfection he could find as they cleaned, dusting and mopping and sweeping their way to victory, before he deigned the room livable by his own standards. He treated it like it was a personal insult, as if someone spit in his face with the mess, and damn near scoffed when he stepped back.

“You’re good at this,” Akira commented as they vanquished the last dust bunnies from his bed. “Cleaning, I mean.”

Akira's smile drew him in and shook the last of his irritation at the entire situation out. Akechi was midway through making his bed in his partially-Alpha-influenced-fuss, but immediately caught himself in the process and—

What Akira’s praise did to him made him want to rip his heart out of his chest and throw it out of Akira’s attic window. His heart stuttered and his cheeks pinked a bit, not so well-hidden by his hair especially as he tucked it behind his ears. Without the dust, Akira filled the void with his presence and scent, and Akechi allowed himself to bask in it for a moment— just a moment. It didn’t hurt to steal that away for himself. 

(Akira’s smile should be banished and illegal in every province and city. Akechi was so _weak_ , and it made him feel a little like that was okay, that the world wasn’t all bad, that there was some grey area that he could look forward to in the future—)

Akechi wondered how ridiculous he would look to his coworkers. To Shido.

He tightened his gloves and eventually spoke up amongst the calm, saying, “...yes, well— it’s nothing, really.” _You’re smiling again and it makes me strangely warm, so I’d say it was time well spent. I know how it feels to be unwanted._ “Anyway! It looks like there’s still a bit of clutter, but— for now, I think this will be good enough. It’s a lot more modest than I originally thought.”

Although he felt his insides rolling in his stomach, which meant that he was well due for something to eat. _Come to think of it, I only managed to eat an apple this morning. Nijima-san did mention that this place sold curry as well_...

Glancing at Akira as his complexion cleared, he smiled and offered, “Shall we get something to eat downstairs? It’ll be my treat.” He let out a short huff of genuine (deprecating) laughter afterwards and added, “Sakura-san can’t say 'no' to a paying customer.”

(If Sojiro pointed out that Akechi was presenting himself as a capable, functional Alpha who would take very good care of Akira, Akechi could honestly say that he hadn’t noticed because he’s never done this song and dance before, and would be properly flustered by the revelation because it wasn’t his complete intention, he’s sure. Granted, Akechi wasn't a very nice person and deep down, even he was aware that it’s just the empathy he felt from having been in a similar position.)

"Are you always so nice to strangers you meet on the train or is this just for me?" Akira asked with a slight smile just as he followed Akechi when he turned to head down the stairs and, very wisely, timed it so by the time he'd finished asking they were right at the counter with Sojiro standing there. There were two steaming plates of curry before him, though his expression remained relatively displeased.

Akechi was almost impressed.

...of course the look on Sojiro’s face was as frigid as a penguin slide in Antarctica, but that was something Akechi could smooth out eventually. (Maybe he should be softer. Obviously it was trouble for him to take Akira in, but he did it anyway, and that counted for something. Being rude would do absolutely no good— he learned that particular lesson when he was very small.)

“I apologize for all the noise,” he said with a small, apologetic smile, taking a seat at the booth where one plate sat. He expected Akira to find his side easily enough and and instead leveled Sojiro with that same look again. “But, I think it’s safe to say that the dust bunnies and other invaders have been vanquished! A job well done, I’d say.”

“Dust bunnies?” Sojiro parroted, his eyes on Akechi and then on Akira before he squinted at something he saw and moved from around the counter. “I guess you wouldn’t mind if I went and took a look, then?”

“By all means! This _is_ your property, after all.”

Akechi’s pleasantness was enough to smooth things over for the moments leading up to Sojiro’s disappearance up the stairs ( _of course it was!_ ), and Akechi’s attention was Akira’s once more. 

Instead of floundering for what was right or wrong to say, Akechi didn’t miss a beat as his heart shriveled up and had an attack somewhere along the way when he said, “Welcome to the city, Kurusu-kun.” 

And.

Akechi might have ulterior motives, but he was genuinely happy to have been of use to Akira on his first day in the city.

"Thanks for the welcome," Akira said back. He seemed to think harder about what he wanted to say next, his smile floating into the space between them and strangling Akechi straight out as the words followed: "I'm glad I met you." 

It was a nice and friendly tone, suitably perfect for someone he'd only met this afternoon. At the same time, however, Akechi could sense his gratitude, and that— that was a treat to think on.

Friendship, Akechi decided. If he couldn’t have Akira - because who would want a murderer _anyway_ , Akechi wasn't that delusional even if he was twisted in several different directions - then he could find himself content with the warmth beside him instead of in his arms whether he deserved it or not. He decided this because the way he wanted to ram his face into a wall from the sheer complexity of Akira’s scent before was nothing compared to the straightened out mishmash of graciousness that was hitting Akechi’s senses right now.

 _I’m glad I met you_.

Those would be the words written on his tombstone, if he were lucky to receive one: ‘Here lies Goro Akechi, dead from gratitude and compliments.’ The way his face started to pink again could be felt over the high rise of his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and he barely managed a small, “Me too,” before he was raising a hand to cover most of his face. You’re so embarrassing. Mates are embarrassing. This... was a good day.

 _Overthinking_ , Loki sneered. He was right. Akechi just couldn't find it within himself to care.

He didn’t have much time afterward to think about the implications of Akira’s words and smell before Sojiro came back down the stairs looking half-impressed and half-pleased. Akechi couldn’t hide the flush on his face quick enough to keep it out of Sojiro’s sight, but thankfully, he was polite enough not to say anything in front of Akira.

If Akira was going to find out that they were fated while he was on probation, then the words would be coming out of Akechi’s mouth. Anything more than that might just end up tearing him in half with embarrassment because _heaven forbid_ that there was a possibility that he wasn’t doing this out of the kindness of his heart, goodness, he'd have no idea what they were talking about.

(He didn’t have much of a heart left, honestly. If it was for Akira, the highest of highs, then perhaps he could continue to dredge up that lifeless kindness and sharpen it up for the ball of emotions that Akechi was sure he going to go through for a year.)

As it was, he took to spooning his dinner curry and grumbling around it once the feelings began to pass and he felt less like jumping out of his skin. The flavors hit him all at once and his slackened expression lightened up, stars sparkling in his eyes as Sojiro came around the bar and said, “I’m impressed. It wasn’t too shabby up there; you guys did a pretty good job cleaning up.”

It wasn’t pancakes, but it was still delicious, and the praise certainly didn’t hurt. Akechi was taught far better than to talk with food in his mouth and he hummed an affirmative in response instead. It wasn’t really his place to talk about it anyway, despite having halved the work, and since it was Akira’s room—

It was best to leave it in Akira’s hands. Akechi might’ve been Alpha, but he knew his place in the presence of an older Alpha. That didn’t stop him earlier, but, well— he was still high off of hormones and emotions. Who could blame him? Certainly not himself.

"Akechi's an expert in cleaning," Akira supplied as if that explained completely why it wasn't too shabby up there, digging in to his own food and lighting up. _More praise_. If only Akechi could make a job out of sitting there and looking pretty and simply being praised for his excellence.

(Wait—)

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Akira sneaking glances over at him as if he, too, was studying him. Akechi wondered what he was thinking about, what he was seeing— was it someone capable? Someone perfect? He couldn't smell, so all he had to rely on were his eyes, ears, touch, and taste. His scent was fairly calm, finally relaxed from the earlier distress and chaos that it had been thrown in on the train.

Akechi would be glad if it was because of him.

But, apparently it was ‘get revenge on Akechi’ day because Sojiro was following that up with the short quip of, “So, he’s a clean freak?” And of course he wasn’t _wrong_ , but did he really need to say it like that?

“You’re too much. I’m afraid I’d have to give the credit to my Roomba for its hard work and dedication in teaching me the fine art of cleaning.” 

_Roomba-san_ was definitely as good as it got. Akechi wasn’t fond of dirt and grime, and that took care of any problems while he wasn’t home (which was a lot, admittedly, as he cleaned up any messes he made himself, and hardly had anyone over if it wasn't for work or an inspection).

Sojiro seemed to accept that answer for however quirky it was, but asked the million dollar question anyway: “What do you plan on doing with the stuff you can’t just throw away? I saw there was still a bike up there, and the books are still there even if they’re more organized now.”

That was a really good question. Akechi turned his eyes to Akira and swallowed his food, wondering if he’d need to come back and help him move the rest. He wasn’t opposed to it and he knew they could get it done together in a matter of hours considering it was just moving the bigger things out of the way, but— what could they do with it all?

 _The bike could still be used and the books could be boxed up_ , he thought. But, it was Akira’s room and again, Akira’s decision. Taking over that sort of thing on the first day wasn't right.

Akira thought for a moment, taking in Sojiro's words about the bike and the books. Perhaps he assumed that his asking meant he didn't want them anymore in the first place because he followed up Sojiro's question with one of his own: "Should I bring them to a recycling shop?" 

“Hmm... that’s not a bad idea. It’s certainly better than them taking up space,” Akechi hummed, glancing at Sojiro. “Unless you have a better suggestion?”

It didn’t take even half a beat before Sojiro was crossing his arms and saying, “Most of the stuff that’s up there belonged to an old friend. I’d rather it all stay in one piece— so long as you don’t throw it away, you can do whatever you want with it.”

An old friend? Akechi could understand the sentiment even if he couldn’t attach an empathetic emotion to it. Sojiro smelled of coffee and intriguing, citrus-flavored secrets; Akechi knew better than to pry right now.

“Very well. Why don’t we pack all of the books away and put it on the set of shelves your box from home is on? That way, it’s out of the way and it stays in Leblanc. As for the bike and everything else...” He trailed off with a thoughtful frown before he opened one eye to aim his look at Akira. “Have you given any thought to taking cycling up as a hobby?”

"I did used to cycle back home. I don't know about cycling around here, though. It seems really busy. But... I can use it. Bottom line is: we'll keep it, right? Sakura-san?" Akira paused, sniffing at the air and diving his attention between Akechi and Sojiro as he looked at Akechi and asked, "Do you ride?"

 _I can ride you_.

Bad, bad thoughts, all stilted and slotting into his mind as if they hadn't just slammed open the doors in his brain and came out of literally no where. Disgusting.

Akechi huffed and tried not to puff up, tried not to show off, but he still smiled and said, “I do, actually. I could show you the best routes around here if you’d like?” 

'Don't get ahead of yourself.'

That was what Sojiro’s gaze was telling him when he chanced a glance in his direction and he felt like breaking out into hives under its judgmental weight. _I want to get to know him_ , Akechi thought, keeping his pleading look, pleading _scent_ , quiet.

Finally Sojiro seemed to give in, warning, “Just don’t get into any trouble along the way and you’re free to use anything you need up there.”

Akechi saw Akira nod in between chews, thankfully swallowing his food before speaking again. "I won't."

The inflection of _I'll try not to_ was ever-present, as if tempting fate was the lowest of lows. That, Akechi could empathize with. How many times had he hoped for a better, more loving family to adopt him, only to be left in the dust and abandoned yet again? It wasn’t a problem anymore given that he would soon be of age to be alone, already off on his own and making his own money with some added benefactors here and there to keep his bills paid and his apartment blessedly furnished, but the sentiment was the same.

Akira soon turned his attention to him, however, and he was left with his spoon in his mouth and his back straight waiting for whatever came out of Akira’s mouth.

"And... I don't mind. Having a guide around here is a good idea." He paused and turned to Sojiro, seeking approval— approval to hang out with Akechi, of all people, a high in a low-hanging world, the second coming of the detective prince. "If that's okay with you, Sakura-san?"

“...fine by me,” Sojiro said, eventually, before he continued full of curious wonder with his eyes on Akechi. “You’re kinda strange for wanting to be friends with this guy.”

Akechi very nearly choked out his laughter. That would’ve been impolite. “Is that so? I don’t think it’s very strange at all.”

“You plan on walking him to school, too?”

 _God_. The look on Sojiro’s face was teasing now and Akechi felt personally attacked for all of five seconds before he settled on ignoring it. Clinging to that feeling would only make him angry and he was self-trained to deal with these sorts of situations. Surprise questions weren’t normal, but he had to keep himself in the mindset of ‘expecting the unexpected’. He wasn’t going to fall into that pithole of bait and instead moved his eyes to Akira, refusing to meet the glint in Sojiro’s gaze.

“Will you be busy tomorrow evening, and perhaps the day after?” Akechi didn’t know Akira’s schedule yet, so— “Or... how about this: why don’t I give you my contact information and we can discuss our plans that way in case something pops up?”

If anyone told him this morning that he would be mentally jumping through hoops to find a hole in his schedule to fit his mate into, he would have (passive-aggressively) smiled and told them to kindly and verbosely fuck themselves. 

As it was, his mind felt like it was the physical representation of a high-class circus act, finding all of the hoops on fire and none of the employees in their right mind. It was best to shake that off.

Unfortunately for him, Akira naturally picked up on Sojiro's question and gave Akechi a piercing look that was all coy pleasure and stabbing curiosity. "Are you walking me to school?" 

_He thinks he’s a joker._

Loki was tickling the back of his mind and, for once, he and Robin Hood were both in full agreement in their amusement. Akechi himself seemed to have a hard time breathing before he decided that the best course of action was to chill out and not let Akira get the upper hand, lest that just encourage him.

“While I normally wouldn’t mind walking you to school, I’m afraid I attend a different school and would likely be late myself if I did that.” Practical and gentle, complete with an award-winning smile. “However, I wouldn’t be opposed to walking with you on your first day to make sure you get there in one piece. The city is quite big and there have been a series of accidents lately.”

At that, Sojiro hummed and went to refill Akechi’s cup of coffee while sliding Akira a cup as well. How kind.

“Well, you’re not wrong about that. Subway accidents have been happening a lot lately. Showing up late to school will look bad no matter what excuse you come up with,” he conceded with a soft grunt, tapping his chin lightly— a habit, Akechi deduced. “I’ll leave it up to the two of you. As long as he stays out of trouble, it’s no skin off my back.”

 _It might be better that someone is there to vouch for him_ , basically. Akechi could work with that.

“Marvelous,” Akechi chirped as he dipped his hand into his pocket to take out his phone, unlocking it and flying to his contacts while he turned at the bar to face Akira. “‘Kurusu Akira’...”

"I can leave earlier so you're not late, if you really want to walk with me. I'm not that bad with directions. I think I'll be fine on my own." Akechi heard the stronger _I think_ in the air alongside Akira’s surprise. He wasn’t expecting him to agree, apparently— that was good. "And my number's XXXX-XXXX. You?"

“Haha... I wasn’t implying that you were,” Akechi said with a bold wink. “My number’s—“

Rattling it off was easy, saving Akira’s even moreso, and he felt a little warm with— an acquaintance’s - a friend’s - number in his phone. Being this close to Akira though reminded the Alpha part of his brain that Akira smelled fan-fucking-tastic, and he showed true physical restraint when he pulled away to give Akira a reassuring smile.

“And you don’t have to worry about waking up earlier. I wake up around five in the morning to exercise anyway, so it’ll be no trouble.”

“As long as it's not a hassle. Thanks in advance. I'll be in your care." Akira flashed him a grateful smile and then paused. "Now that I think about it, I'm not sure when I'm starting school, actually."

“Considering that you want to take up cycling..." He trailed off with a knowing glint in his eye. Akira had the look and feel of someone who'd rather sleep in than come out at the ass crack of dawn to exercise, but Akechi wisely chose not to comment on that and instead straightened in his chair and turned back to his food.

They did need to know when he was starting school, though.

Sojiro picked that time to speak up while he was wiping down a coffee pot, his eyes on his task rather than the teenagers chatting it up at his bar.

"Did you already forget? We're going to introduce ourselves to the staff at your new school tomorrow," he said, his tone beginning to dip. "There's rarely a place that—"

Akechi's eyes held fire when he gazed at Sojiro and he hoped that was what made him reconsider his words. It was a little embarrassing defending someone that he just met on the train today, but heaven forbid he let him trample on Akira again right in front of him. Earlier, he hadn't expected the cold, distanced hostility; now, he knew better.

He was sure it would get better over time, but—

_Would it?_

That question hung in the deeper parts of his psyche that still remembered pain, loneliness, despair— it wasn’t pretty or perfect and he had no desire to acknowledge it in front of his mate and his mate’s guardian no matter what fate cursed him.

With a ragged, burdened sigh, Sojiro shook his head after a faltering pause and continued, "—nevermind. Just remember that your morning's filled tomorrow, but I don't have anything planned for you for the evening."

Akira’s eyes seemed too watchful, taking in much more than what Sojiro said. He said nothing of it and simply nodded, saying, “Got it."

Akechi could only smile, tepid and slow. Was Akira something more than Akechi gave him credit for? Beyond the scent that brought Akechi out his way, he honestly had to wonder what was hiding in his depths.

Not skeletons, ghosts, and other monsters, he hoped. He had enough of those for them both.

Akira turned to Akechi then, life wringing itself free from the depths and touching his eyes. "I'll message you tomorrow if you're free?"

“Mmm... of course," he hummed, tapping his fingers together over his empty plate before Sojiro could snatch it from him. Heh. "It'll be a little busy in the precinct in the morning, but I'll make certain that my evening is clear. Our schedules should line up fairly well."

Akechi had little doubt that he'd be swallowed whole by everything that he had to do tomorrow, but with the discovery of his mate he found he didn't really regret it. The fact that his mate was relatively normal, untouched, pure in the gentlest sense of the world— that undeserving feeling would never pass, and he would have to hide him from Shido so he couldn't even be too public about it, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. A little stress kept him on his toes.

If Shido ever found out, he'd use Akira against him and, well, Akechi couldn't have that. Akira had nothing to do with what happened to him when he was young, but had everything to do with Akechi's future.

 _My future_...

That was something he hadn't thought about in the long term. After he killed Shido, he would have nothing left other than the fame he'd incur when he solved the case and connected all of the psychotic break cases to it and Shido himself, so this was a wrench in the cogs of his plans. Akechi just couldn't decide if it was a good wrench or a bad one and that— that was dangerous. 

Akira was dangerous for even having the power to make him second guess his future from just one meeting and hours of exposure. Was that the power of a mate-bond?

Once he got away from Akira, he'd have to think about it more and look into it for a way to avoid the crippling need to prostrate himself on his knees. For the moment, however, Akechi was content to bask in Akira's presence, glad that escapism wasn't too far from where he lived. There was the small problem of the case that landed Akira in the city in the first place, but he could look into that tomorrow.

All things in due time.

Belatedly, he registered Akira’s ensuing words, replaying them in his head: “You don't have to, but thanks. I really appreciate it, Akechi-kun." 

_Mm_. Gratitude felt good. It smelled good, too. That belonged in his garden of happiness, Akechi thought to no one in particular.

Akira took one last spoonful of curry and rice out of the corner of his eyes before finishing up and then asking, "Precinct? I thought you went to school?" He paused and then broke into a cheeky smile. "Unless you're older than me?"

“Ah... yes, that may be so. I’m seventeen— but on top of school, I also have a job,” he said, keeping it fittingly vague for the moment. “Balancing both is a little tiresome, but the payoff is well enough.”

Akechi didn’t mind because it kept him busy and blissfully numb. Now, he had something that would fill his little free time and that would require a different level of patience.

“Sounds like you're pretty busy." A moment passed where Akira seemed to struggle with what to say next, but he eventually settled with more mind-addling gratitude. "Thanks again."

“I’m a little busy, yes. No thanks are necessary! But..." He smiled, half-genuine and half-fake and positive that a stranger wouldn't be able to tell the difference. 

(If it were anyone else, a different sort of stranger rather than his mate, it'd be all fake— TV grade and brittle, as if his time was being wasted. Megawatt cranked up to over nine thousand. Here, however, it was not.)

"You're very welcome."

Akira mirrored that smile with his own, looking happy again in light of recent events trying to push him down. If anyone was allowed to push him down to the ground, well—

That was Akechi’s special privilege.

—

The conversation after that was basically small talk about the city; the weather, what to expect when it came to commute, and other miscellenous things with Sojiro piping in a few times before finally shooing Akechi off when closing crept up on them finally.

Mostly fine with being shooed away, Akechi remembered one vital thing when he and Sojiro were already outside and he's already said good night to Akira— he went to clench his fist around the comforting handle of his case while breathing in the Akira-free air of the train station’s entrance, only to find that it wasn't in either of his hands, and his hand was in his pocket before he knew it to text Akira a rushed: 

_Hello! Sorry to bother you so soon after leaving, but this is Akechi. I suspect that I might have left my attaché case in your room. Would it be too much to ask if I were able to come and get it?_

He didn't have anything suspicious in there - just a laptop and documents about cases, all locked in with a code only he knew - but they were important for his work and he kind of really needed them lest he be off guard tomorrow.

(A part of him felt foolish for forgetting it, but frustratingly understood that his mind was preoccupied with Akira.)

Thinking of Akira seemed to summon him because Akechi’s phone was vibrating with his reply near-immediately. 

_No problem._

Akechi turned on his heel to head back to Leblanc when the second text came in, good-intentioned and straight to the point.

_Actually, I think I found it. I'll have it ready for you._

One problem solved.

_Ah, excellent. I'll be there soon._

He cut it short so he could look both ways before crossing the street like a good boy should, and wound up at the 'Closed' sign of Leblanc's door not even five minutes later, anxiously waiting for the door to be opened so he could dip out and let Akira sleep. Akechi spent all day and night with Akira instead of dipping in to the pile of work he undoubtedly had in that case, basking in the weight of his scent washing through his senses, so the fact that he forgot—

Well, Akira had it, so all was well.

Akira peeked out of Leblanc's door soon, attaché case in his left hand. "Nice to see you again," he teased a little as he held out the case to Akechi. The butterflies began eating at his insides as the air tore itself between a feeling of home and freedom. "Looks like you were focused on the dust bunnies a bit too much."

“Ah... haha... my apologies," he said with a short, startled laugh, gently taking his attaché case from Akira's hands while trying not to focus on the brush of his glove over Akira's skin as he did. Akechi was trying not to pay too much attention to the bounce of Akira's hair, either, but he couldn't help the way his curls caught his eye as a gentle wind passed. "Usually I would never forget this... It's a little embarrassing, but thank you for bringing it out to me. Perhaps I _was_ too focused on the dust bunnies after all."

_Or you're as distracting as your scent is._

With a smile, Akechi waved a hand and continued, "I'll be seeing you soon, but I'd like to thank you for today again. It must have been strange to have someone you didn't know sticking around." Realizing he was rambling, he quickly cut himself off and said, "...ah, but I should be letting you get to sleep, shouldn't I? Good night, Kurusu-kun. I hope everything goes well for you tomorrow morning."

Akira shook his head and said in the contrary, "It's not strange. We introduced ourselves before you stuck around, didn't we?" It was followed by a smile so warm it made Akechi’s body tingle. This was bad, wasn’t it? Was he sick? "Good night too, Akechi."

_Absolutely, without a doubt, do not kiss him. Back away slowly, turn around, and leave. Do not kiss his smile, do not run your fingers through his hair to see if it's as soft as it looks, and do not, under any circumstance, act on the gravitational pull between your body and his. Do not do it. Don't. Don't think about it, don't—_

Don’t act on what the primal part of your brain wanted. That was a hard-learned lesson from long ago.

Letting out a slightly pained huff (wheeze), Akechi coughed into his fist as he raised it to keep himself from grabbing Akira and crushing him to his chest, and nodded.

"Y-yes... I suppose that's one way to look at it," he said, getting the words out through his teeth without getting lost in Akira's smile. His tongue felt heavy and his mouth: dry. Akechi breathed out and lowered his hand, then, and stepped back with sheer determination, giving Akira a smile of his own. "Farewell— and rest well, please." _It's your first night in the city, and I hope it's not fitful_.

Not wanting to risk the chances of grabbing Akira's face and smashing their lips together, Akechi clutched his attaché case close to his side and turned away with an open-handed wave, walking down the streets with resolve in his every step. There was some small percentage that he would've been able to resist, but he wasn't willing to risk it with as close as he came just then.

Some time apart would do him well. He had a lot of information to digest and he wouldn’t be able to do that with the way his brain ran in convoluted circles around Akira.

(And not with the way his case seemed to smell as Akira's very essence clung to it. He was going to have a long night.)

—

_If you can hear my voice, that means it’s not too late. Please..._


	2. april 10 - 11 ( purple hyancith )

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, Akechi thought, tucking his thoughts into Akira's back pocket, a precious, old sepia photo. I'm sorry I brought you into this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did no one tease me about the amount of 'suppose' that was in last chapter omg... THANK YOU FOR GIVING THIS FIC A CHANCE— now we're mostly returning to your regularly scheduled control freak alpha who can’t keep a grip. This chapter is dialogue heavy, as a forewarning. WE GOTTA GO AND WE GOTTA GO FAAAAST—

Waking up in the morning was a troublesome affair.

Akechi had gone to bed with his clothes from the day before on and his attaché case on the bed with him because everything carried Akira's scent. Now that he was awake and feeling fresh, memories of the previous day all came down to crash and burn like the aftermath of a wrecking ball to a building that wasn't quite ready to be demolished yet.

He wished his bed had swallowed him whole. Facing the rising sun at 5:30 in the morning on his cycling route— today, it wasn’t desirable. He’d even woken up forty-five minutes late to start. Akechi might’ve liked a bullet through the brain more than sunlight in his eyes, unsuccessfully blinding him to the poison he ingested the day before.

The previous day’s happenings came back to him as if he didn’t already understand the gravity of the situation while he tried to get his morning cycle in, however short it was. He found the one who was just for him, but—

_He doesn’t know. On top of that... He has a record._

It really was assault, too. Looking in to it at work had Akechi at a table in the lobby, away from the other officers, going through criminal records on his laptop rather than rattling around in the physical copies. It was a case involving a minor with a female witness as well as a man who wasn’t named.

A small offense, really. It was nothing like Akechi’s own pile of sins.

Akechi hadn’t been expecting anything bloody, but Akira had been uprooted from his hometown and moved to the city for his probation. It lined up with everything he remembered from the day before and he wondered how someone so soft and unassuming landed himself in that sort of situation in the first place. At the very least, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that there was something blatantly wrong based on that alone.

And it wasn’t justice-fueled, coerced murder. _Sakura trees looked so pretty, but their blossoms were gone so soon._

A bullshit record.

Maybe he just thought too highly of Akira. He had to, really— Akechi hadn’t been aware of how much his body was truly anticipating the arrival of the one person who wanted anything to do with him. Once that person was in reach, his body wanted to grab them and take hold of them.

Logically, his own reactions and lowered guard yesterday were understandable. Akechi only had himself and his denied instincts to blame. Patience was something he had in abundance, but with his instincts blaring sirens in his body and the Alpha in him clawing up from the depths of Hell that Akechi banished it to— remaining idle wouldn’t do him any good. 

He couldn’t, anyway, even if he tried. Akechi was always moving, even now, tapping his fingers against black laptop keys.

Still...

If his inhibitions were so compromised when he was around Akira, it was best if he stayed away. Who knew how Akira would use that to his advantage? Besides, if Akechi lingered around Akira then he’d only end up getting tied up with Shido at some point and Akechi— he couldn’t have that. Akechi was already aware of his primal limits.

His instinct made him trip onto his knees for Akira and that only spelled troubled for the future.

If Shido touched Akira... they wouldn’t really be limits, would they? Maybe when it was all said and done, and Akira was off of his scent blockers, then Akechi could finally seek him out and at least try.

His fingers paused.

Or maybe not. That was a bad idea. Bad brain, thinking it deserved Akira's hand. Akechi might’ve been soft, positive-neutral tones for Akira yesterday, but on the inside he was still—

“Oh, Akechi-kun. I didn’t expect to see you here this early.”

(A not-quite dormant volcano waiting to blow on the first unsuspecting person to pop up on him in a bad mood in the Metaverse.)

A familiar scent crossed his senses at the same time that the voice registered. He found his smile immediately after closing the files he was in, inclining his head towards the smell of coconuts and old paperwork. _Vanilla as well?_

Pancakes. Sae could cook? Or was it Makoto?

Did Akechi eat anything this morning?

“Sae-san,” he greeted, eyes closed and mouth curved. His stomach was creaking. “Good morning! I had something to look into, so I came in a little earlier than usual.”

An older Alpha, Sae was a professional, almost well-respected prosecutor. Akechi respected her, at least. She held fast to her sense of justice and was more than willing to do whatever it took - within the law - to see it through to the end. She was ambitious, too, and Akechi looked forward to the day that he saw her in the SIU Director’s chair.

...if she made it that far without cracking under the pressure. Sae was a strong woman, but her heart was feeble, and Akechi had seen, already, what feeble hearts did to strong women. Rabbits were lion’s prey for a reason.

He wondered if this line of work wasn’t made for her, though. Sae’s Shadow was getting restless in Mementos, spitting calm fire and irritation all across the board at the stress hanging over her head. Akechi was honestly a little worried at times.

_The Metaverse... Akira didn’t know._

“Something to look into?” She questioned as she took to his side in her silver-trimmed black suit. It was a regular thing for her and smelled— sort of like her sister, if Akechi had to guess, as she ventured closer. “Is it about a case you’re working on?”

His stomach rumbled this time, less Leblanc’s steps up to the attic and more Norse mythology. Terrible.

He kept his smile up for her sake, saying, “No, nothing like that. This was... personal.” Very personal. So much so that he ended up shutting his laptop and waving a hand towards the seat nearest to him and continuing, “Was there something you needed?”

Sae took that cue to join him with a nod, pressing herself into the very seat he’d gestured towards. Her eyes were sharp when they landed on him again, inquisitive and worrying and everything Akechi didn’t need on him at the moment.

Before he could ask her what was wrong, she spoke up.

“Actually, I was on my way to call your school and see if I could have you come down to the station,” Sae admitted, swiping at her bangs to keep them out of her eyes. “But from the sounds of it, you’re on break.”

“Yes. Break just started today,” he said with an easy smile. He’d forgotten about it the day before, but Akechi woke up with more clarity in the morning. “My school and Shujin Academy must have different schedules.”

“That’s how it is,” she nodded with her words. She and her sister both went to Shujin Academy, but Akechi opted to go somewhere else. In a way, he was starting to regret it. If he’d gone to Shujin, then he and Akira could’ve—

 _Don’t think about him_ , he berated himself quickly, not even waiting for the other shoe to drop in his head.

His irritation must have lanced into his scent because Sae’s look was curious again. He tried ironing it out, keep the honesty to himself, and she mercifully let it slide. Instincts were only getting in the way.

Small talk was too dangerous when Akechi felt volatile, glass fragile enough to shatter at one touch. His lips were curved steel in defiance of that.

“Did you need me for something?” He tried again, eyes shuttered closed. “I can only assume so if you were going to call my school.”

As if remembering, Sae’s mouth opened with a soft _ah_ , words tumbling out carefully, “Yes. I want your opinion on something if you have the time.”

Leaving it to him, then? Akechi was already here, so he might as well. Maybe it would help take his mind off of everything else.

“Sure. Your judgement is quite often correct, though,” he said easily, finding all the right words in his found focus. “Is it bothering you that bad?”

“Something like that...” She sighed, politely grievous, and gave him a look that said two different things: he gave away too much and she knew exactly how to fix it. “Have you had lunch yet?”

_Uh..._

Sae heard his stomach growl. Of course she did.

Akechi managed to look genuinely sheepish when he responded, cheeks brightening and mouth stuttering. “Haha... no?” He picked up his surprise, throwing it into a river, poured gasoline over the top of the river, and set it on fire. “Are you offering to take me out, Sae-san? If so, can we get sushi?”

A classic situation where a child was asking for food. She was more accustomed to dealing with that sort of human being because she leaned back, her eyes veering off to the side as if she were resisting the urge to roll them, and pushed herself away from the table with a nod.

Did she expect him not to match her? Good on him, Akechi thought. Akira’s sudden appearance in his life didn’t completely destroy him. He could still pick up his pieces, fix himself, stay away from Leblanc, from Akira, stop gritting his teeth over what will never be—

Sae spoke.

“Conveyor belt only."

His hindbrain decided to kick up a fuss and remind him that he had previous engagements to be keeping an eye out for. Namely: Kurusu Akira contacting him for further assistance. Kurusu Akira needing him. Him being Kurusu Akira’s mate.

 _It's not worth it to leave without making sure_.

Akechi palmed his phone to quiet the feeling of acid as it burnt his veins, putting on a show of grimacing as he huffed, but said nothing when he stashed his laptop and moved to follow Sae out the door. If he hung out long enough around Sae - the lioness with the heart of a rabbit - he could get himself back together and put his pieces in the places he needed them.

Predictably, the look on her face as she sat down in the driver’s seat and he found himself comfortable in the passenger seat of her car wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t like the walk to it was a long affair, the parking lot attached to the back of the building, so Akechi had all of maybe five minutes to find a face and put it on before she began interrogating him for reasons unknown.

Perhaps this was a bad idea after all.

“You aren’t usually caught up in personal matters,” she started conversationally, as easily as she slotted her keys in the ignition and turned them, her car rumbling to life around him. “It didn’t seem like it had anything to do with school, either. Unless you’re researching true mates for a later paper?”

 _Ah_. Akechi slipped his attaché case to the floor and deftly moved to buckle himself in, the smile on his face sheepish. “No, it’s nothing like that. I take it you peeked?”

Playful. _Careful_ — a role model to every teenager, with just the right amount of sugar.

“I happened to see it in passing, yes.” Sae didn’t sound apologetic about it, but her focus was all on getting them out of the parking lot and onto the road safely. He appreciated that. “Was there something about the subject that was troubling you?”

He wondered how much would be acceptable to tell a coworker that he wasn’t entirely close to on a personal level. Sae was a lot of things, but ‘stressed’ was at the top of the list and unloading even a persistent burden... Did she really have the capacity to be worried about someone else’s troubles? She never dug in to him this way before, always keeping her interest to something tempered and professional.

That was assuming she was even worried, of course. He shouldn’t assume. It was a terrible habit.

Although— there was also the probability that she was simply reaching for small talk. The topic of true mates was as small as anyone could get with only an even smaller percentage of the world’s population having the chance to meet their only one. Because of that, Akechi never dared to hope. 

Hope was dangerous.

Hope was like praise, twisting important understandings into knots and completely disregarding the reality of the situation at hand. It made him believe things he knew he shouldn’t, but believed regardless. Hope was his true mate’s arrival in the city at the most important time in Akechi’s life - the wrong time for a mate, Akechi thought - trapezing his delectable scent into Akechi’s primal cerebral _understanding_ , making his mouth dry out and cotton clog the passage of his throat.

“No. I just found it fascinating that such a small percentage of people actually manage to find their mate.” 

And he was truly fascinated after scanning through the only three studies that have been performed on the subject itself with people who have properly bonded. There was one in America, another in China, and then one in Russia— one he wouldn’t even call a ‘study’ more than it was a thesis, but the differences were nonexistent when they all touched on the same thing.

True mates were dangerous. 

If one died, the other was rumored to lose their life because they didn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with the significant loss. If one was harmed, the other was likely to exact revenge in a similarly violent manner. Both phenomena were most observed in Alphas, naturally, with the study in Russia citing around eighty percent positive for it— the former phenomena was observed in Omega as well, though their display of the latter phenomena was near non-existent. Omega were docile and sweet— the submissive half to an Alpha-Omega pair.

Akechi understood that fairly well, however. Beta made up most of the world’s designation, while Omega and Alpha tapered off in the lower percentage rates, with the capacity to scent their mate written in their biology. The strength of the attraction seemed to vary and there were reports of unfortunate accidents where one or the other ended up with a Beta as a mate.

_Unstable._

The need to make the bond permanent was strong enough between a fully functioning Alpha-Omega pair. He could only imagine how maddening it was for either designation to be paired with a Beta.

“That’s how it is,” Sae finally said, her eyes on the road still. “More than half the population is Beta— it doesn’t help that you never know what you really are until you’re nearing the end of your teenage years.”

She wasn’t wrong. Akechi knew he was Alpha when he was on the cusp of sixteen, fumbling along the streets of Tokyo in rut on his first mission until the kindness of a stranger brought him out of it. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant memory - the duration of the rut itself, being the first, was an arduous week-long affair that he only experienced one more time afterward - but he could appreciate the warmth he knew happened in between.

He was an earlier bloomer, though, and didn’t fancy to tell her that. It was none of her business.

“You’re right, of course. It’s difficult enough getting through the awkwardness of puberty for some,” he said with a chuckle as he glanced out the window while they were held up at a line of traffic. The itchy urge to let Akira know that they might be a little late settled in to the skin of his hands, making him tighten his gloves to scratch it away. “The more I read into it, the more I understand why most settle for whoever they end up with regardless of whether or not they’re fated. An Alpha’s violently aggressive tendencies and an Omega’s manic depression in the moments they lose their mate or their mate is harmed...”

Sae’s eyes closed briefly when he chanced a glance her way, wondering what was going through her head. Sae herself was Alpha, her aggression showing in the courtroom and Mementos when he does her the small favor of stopping by to fight with her for a bit. She wasn’t particularly strong in those moments, but whenever he came out of Mementos and saw her she seemed lighter.

Akechi could kill the trash of society and take a little bit of Sae’s burden from her shoulders. Convincing himself he was doing more good than harm went a long way in keeping him— sane.

(“You’re always calling me delusional, but you’re the same, aren’t you?”)

“But those who do end up with their fated halves are the happiest they’ve ever been in their life,” he continued, his smile cracking over his face. “I wonder if finding their happiness is worth the despair they feel when it’s compromised.”

“‘Happiness’, huh...?”

Sae’s murmured words had him perking up. “You don’t agree that it’s happiness?”

She went silent, however, and set his mind back into overdrive. Had Sae found her fated one? Were they a Beta, or was it the same sort of situation that was happening between he and Akira? Was that the reason she seemed more restless than usual underground?

He wanted to ask and to tell her that if she needed someone to talk to about it then he was available. But, that was too forward, wasn’t it? Sae was just his coworker.

“Why the sudden interest, though?” Sae asked as the light turned green and she began driving once more, the traffic clearing.

A good question, and certainly no answer to his own. (Or, perhaps, an answer on its own: she doesn’t want to talk about it.) She wasn’t buying in to simple curiosity.

Akechi obliged her anyway with a hum.

“I really was simply curious,” he stated again, chewing what he could say before spitting out what he decided would do. “Something unusual happened yesterday and I thought I would find answers if I simply read up on the subject.”

Sae’s eyes seemed to sharpen.

“Did you find your answer?”

_No._

True matings were too rare and Sae smelled too uncomfortable - fake essence rather than pure extract - to continue an in-depth conversation about it. It was too personal a matter and Akechi latched on to the thought that she found her own mate already.

Perhaps it wasn’t everything she had dreamed it to be.

Harrowing, that.

“Somewhat,” he half-lied, his smile more nostalgic as he tilted his head to glance out the window at the people gathered on the sidewalk. So many people just minding their own business, noses buried in their phones, gossiping about the latest trends—

How many of them found their fated? How many of them were settling for something else due to ridiculous circumstances or forced hands? How many were like his mother, rejected and desperately searching for a reason to live?

He closed his eyes.

—

The nitty gritty of the talk he and Sae had over sushi was laughable at best.

She wasn’t open to talk of hocus pocus tricks and the supernatural even though their world was basically built around it. Science and magic were intertwined, biology clashing with the universe’s truths of fate and love, and nothing was ever what it seemed. Akechi almost felt bad for her disgruntled disbelief and ended up throwing her a bone.

If it only he could chalk up the way his heart stuttered when he felt his phone vibrate as they were paying for their food to something that should only be chemical. Akechi’s heart was hammering in his chest with his words dipping into Hell and he reached for his phone as the cashier was printing out his receipt.

 **Kurusu Akira** : We’re on our way back. Do you still have time to help?

Oh, if only Akira knew.

He thought about it for a moment as Sae spoke, paying for her own food, Akechi pulling away with his receipt in hand and dodging the corner of the counter when it came for his left kidney. If Akira knew, would anything be different? Would Akechi still be contemplating murder on the fly?

Would Akechi be researching the topic of true mates more thoroughly? A hands-on account was always more telling than reports.

“Sae-san,” he interrupted quietly, hedging a smile over his shoulder. “Thank you for bringing me here, but I’m afraid a previous engagement is pulling me away.”

Sae’s eyes turned to him. Her brow rose and her mouth went straight down, telling him everything he needed to know. “Previous engagement?”

“Yes. I promised someone I would meet them at Leblanc today to take care of a few things with them.”

That seemed to bring her right back around, her expression immediately brightening.

“You’re going to Leblanc?”

Sae’s question had him pausing and turning fully, his smile automatic and extra pleased. “That’s right. The person I’m meeting... it’s a complicated situation, but he lives in the upstairs section of the building,” he explained, doing his damndest to keep the fondness out of his tone. “He just returned from an errand and requested my assistance with a matter we discussed last night.”

Akechi almost asked why she wanted to know, but the air went electric with interest and Sae’s eyes met his. Her smile was soft and it made him tense up, equal parts surprised and momentarily flustered.

That beautiful smile couldn’t be for him and Sae couldn’t be—

“Why don’t I drive you, then? I stopped by this morning for coffee, but it was closed. If your friend is home now, I might have better luck.”

 _Friend_ — there was that _word_ , that bad, presumptuous word that made Akechi’s inside shrivel up in both anger and hope. Angry hope, maybe. The simple implication that he considered Akira his friend was—

Lovely. That was what he decided on the day before, wasn’t it? If Akira was anything to him, he would be his friend.

(He could appreciate beauty at the pinnacle of its wispy true form, often times subjective.)

Still, Akechi wasn’t taught to turn down goodwill when it benefited both parties, so his smile brightened and he nodded.

“I would greatly appreciate that, Sae-san. Thank you.”

—

The second he walked into Leblanc, spring hit him in the face and smacked his Alpha instincts right on the nose like it was a bad dog for running from home. Akira's scent called to him in the worst sort of way, drawing him through the restaurant as if Akechi were dancing on Akira's palms, strings all tangled and limbs flailing.

The look on Sae's face was priceless when Akechi headed right passed the counter with a smile and a polite _good afternoon_ before he zoomed to the stairs and scaled them in record time. He could hear her calling for him in her confusion, but he had neither the time nor the care.

Akira himself was looking around his room with his back turned to the stairs, so Akechi raised a hand and waved, saying, "Kurusu-kun! Good afternoon!" It gained him Akira's immediate attention and his soft features melted into a smile, his hands shifting into his pockets. It was an expression of comfort and surprising trust, but Akechi was happy for it all the same. "I came as soon as you called. Were you deciding where we should start?"

"Yeah. There are a few things that look like we'll have to team lift," he explained, his eyes darting to the ladder and the bike to his left. Akechi had to smile a little more fondly at that.

"Of course. Once those are out of the way though, we should be able to split the work." Akechi found himself staring directly over Akira's shoulder, his eyes focused on the books that were piled up on the shelves. "Do you think any of these boxes are empty?"

Akira's hum was muted as he looked around again, Akechi thought about it— he had his hands in his pockets yesterday, too. Was it going to be a common thing? Deliberate? Akechi’s right hand flexed as he dropped his case by the stairs; it wasn’t cold. Akira had no twitch that Akechi could see, no injury, and there was no tension in his muscles that made it seem like he wanted to reach out and touch something.

Comfort, then? It wasn’t like Akechi could talk. Akira’s slouching paired with his hands in his pockets made him look even more unassuming than the simple way he’d sat on the train the day before.

_Ah, is that it?_

Akira wanted to seem small, prey as opposed to predator— simple psychology laid out before him, rummaging around a cluttered set of shelves. His mate was more intelligent that he thought.

“Let’s start with the books,” Akira finally said, blowing in between the book as if having expected the dust to pile back up overnight. “If we move the bags on the other shelves, we should be able to stack the boxes.”

“Very well," he conceded, dragging his eyes away from Akira to see that there was space behind the desk Akira's bag was sitting on. A blue laundry basket was tucked behind there with plenty of space for additional storage.

They could use that. 

"Mm, Kurusu-kun— have you thought about placing anything behind there?" Akira stopped moving for the books and came to his side. A part of Akechi felt happier for it. "It might be possible to squeeze in between that... _contraption_."

Akira's chuckle was short, but there was genuine mirth there. "Probably. You wanna try?"

"I don't see why not. The more space you have, the better— correct?"

Akira sauntered his way back to Akechi’s side, aggravatingly straight-faced as he took in the same space that Akechi had pointed out. Every little hair on the back of Akechi’s neck stood on end, the simple proximity making wonder if his nerves were dying stars.

“Let’s put everything we can’t throw away or won’t use back there, then,” he finally decided with a sniff, bumping his shoulder against Akechi’s in a motion too fluid not to have been deliberate. Akechi’s body startled and he looked at Akira in time to see his radiant smile praising him for his efforts. “Good find!”

He carried that warmth with him through the rest of the day, trading quips with Akira as they moved everything around. Akira ended up cracking a wobbling smile when Akechi wheezed as he was squatting down to pick up a long line of books, resulting in Akechi throwing him a sharp smile that only thinly veiled his bemusement. He ended up catching the tail end of a very delicate snort before Akira pushed an empty box his way in aid. 

They moved efficiently and quickly, not checking the time until they unearthed a semi-healthy plan, cleared the shelves next to Akira’s makeshift bed, moved everything off of Akira’s shoddy work desk, and made sure there was extra room for anything Akira brought in or needed.

Mid-move, they stopped to ponder where the bigger things would go, debating on the purpose of an extra chair and a large ladder.

“Couldn’t the beams be used for strength training?” Akechi’s eyes moved to look at them above, index finger tapping his chin briefly. “You could keep the chair at the end of your bed and pull it out when you need it.”

“Huh?”

Akechi’s eyes swerved back to Akira, his smile inquiring, “You’re not interested in ‘using anything you can’ anymore?”

Akira’s eyes narrowed and his lips pursed (a _pout_ , how cute!), his displeasure stabbing through the air. _Interesting_.

“Somehow, I don’t think I expected you to point it out like that.”

Feeling oddly refreshed, Akechi chuckled and took the top handles of the chair in both hands to begin moving it towards the bed, saying, “Chairs are generally useful. If you don’t end up using it, it’s lightweight enough that you can still move it wherever you need to by yourself.”

Akira watched him go with dancing stars in his eyes. 

“You’re pretty resourceful, aren’t you, Akechi-kun?”

“Haha...”

The surface imperfections were taken care of the day before, so Akechi’s mind was comforted knowing that he could now banish the wrinkles underneath, smoothing everything out with a fine-picked comb. Akira vouched for the life of his plant, made a cute little face at the thought of getting up at five in the morning, and they agreed that the ladder could be stashed until further need arose. He had taken to making his bed that morning, so Akechi moved on to categorizing the books in various boxes in the back while Akira organized his work desk.

Closing the boxes proved to be difficult, Akechi unwilling to mar the soft covers beneath, and took a side trip downstairs to grab tape from Sojiro. 

The only customer in the cafe was Sae, funnily enough, and she seemed to have retrieved work from her car. She had countless papers spread out all around her booth table; Akechi had to smile when she didn’t even spare him a glance, dedicated to her own world.

Sojiro, however—

“How much longer do you think it’ll take?” He asked, looking beneath the bar for the tape Akechi asked him for. “Didn't think it could get any louder than it was yesterday, but..."

That was what he said, but Sojiro had been facing the television and sitting on the customer side of the bar with a crossword in front of him before Akechi asked for tape. Sae was in her own little zone with a steaming cup of coffee at her side, likely tuning everything out. With no other customers, Akechi wasn’t sure they were bothering anyone.

He still gave Sojiro his best sheepish smile and said, “I apologize if we were being loud. We’ll try to be more quiet, but we should be done within the next hour. Please bear with us for a little while longer.”

Sojiro’s look was long and tempered as he handed Akechi clear tape over the bar, his scent indecipherable. The light in his eyes was understanding.

“Alright. Don’t work too hard,” he said as he returned to his seat around the counter, eyes moving to glare at his crossword. “I saw him try to carry a bag of trash through the cafe. He’s a lot weaker than he looks.”

Akechi simply hummed. The ‘bag of trash’ Sojiro was referring to had been full of useless junk ranging from children’s toys and various unrecyclables that Akira had no need for. It was a mostly hefty load and Akira insisted that he’d be fine carrying it so Akechi let him.

Clearly that was a mistake if he was having as much trouble as Sojiro implied. Strength training would do him some good.

Sojiro continued talking, tapping his pen against the counter once he took it between his fingers. “I kinda expected that, though. His parents are pretty well-off, so he probably hasn’t had to do much heavy lifting.”

‘Well-off’? 

_What in the hell is that supposed to mean?_

His smile unfaltering, Akechi ended up shaking his head and returning to his mate’s room with the task of finishing the job.

All that he could think was: _I suppose we’re on completely opposite sides of the spectrum._

When they finally finished, it was a half hour later ending with Akechi relaxing on Akira’s dusted, beaten, fluffed couch with Akira on the opposite end looking as worn out as the couch itself. Akira’s smiling and Akechi’s leaned all the way back, his neck craned and his legs pushed out, eyes half-mast and mind gone.

Cleaning was such a soothing activity. Akechi did best in tasks that occupy his hands, his mind, and meticulously digging into the folds of Akira’s room to make it near nest worthy was about as fulfilling as correctly guessing the culprit in his mystery novels. (Even that got stale.)

Yes, he was quite satisfied; so satisfied that he found he hadn’t worried at all about anything, simply slogging through the task of cleaning Akira’s room.

_Intriguing._

“Akechi-kun?”

Akira’s voice broke through the fog, drawing his open eyes to him without delay. He smiled, open and inviting as he prompted. “Yes? Is something the matter?”

“Nah,” Akira toned, a smile slinking onto his face. “I was just wondering what was on your mind. You were zoning out pretty bad there.”

“Was I? I apologize. I was just thinking about how soothing cleaning could be.” That, at least, wasn’t a lie. “We actually managed to finish it all off today. That’s quite an accomplishment considering how cluttered it was before.”

He watched Akira eye the room around them and then nod, just as satisfied as Akechi. ( _If they ever had their own home, at least it would be clean._ ) Akira’s eyes found him again, freezing him in place when his smile brightened and threatened to completely overthrow Akechi’s values and morality.

“Thanks, Akechi-kun.”

 _There it is again._ Warmth surged through him and Akechi sighed, letting it wash over him. “You’re very welcome,” he said, his smile a touch shy. “I did say I’d assist, didn’t I?”

“That’s not what I mean.” Akira sounded amused, though, and Akechi found himself curious. What else could he have meant other than that? “I mean— for coming back here today.”

“...oh?”

Why wouldn’t he have come?

“I didn’t think you were serious when you offered fo help, but you really came through for me,” he explained, the underlying current of bitterness that’s so usual with his scent suddenly being eclipsed by a strange radiance that smacked Akechi right on the nose. “So— thank you.”

 _You’re my mate._ To Akechi, that was reason enough to go out of his way for Akira when it seemed like he had very little to gain.

Still—

“A-ah...” Not completely understanding, but still flushing with his own delight, Akechi nodded. “You’re... welcome, again.”

The attic space felt empty with its barren landscape, but Akira’s smile made his own scent perfume the space between the cracks. With a forest trying to invade his pores and make a rainy home for itself in his heart, Akechi took a deep breath and moved on.

“How was Shujin?” He straightened himself out for a presumably serious conversation, swiping his hands over his pants and looking at Akira expectantly. “When I arrived, Sakura-san seemed ready to leave— did you just get back?”

Akira himself straightened in response, nodding. “Yeah. I didn’t actually expect you to get here so soon— we were still on the road when I sent you that message.”

 _Ah._ “No wonder... and Shujin?” _Were you treated well?_ It was illegal for any information to be released about Akira’s record, so Akechi was sure he would have nothing to worry about. Right? “How was it?”

So, so sure, that he almost missed the way Akira’s eyes flashed and looked elsewhere, negativity a flash flood through the forest— Akira seemed to reel in in his frustration, the silence high.

Akechi blinked at the abrupt swing. Bitterness was starting to leak back inside the room ( _drip, drip, drip_ ).

 _Not well?_ Akechi hummed and took a chance, edging closer and gently setting his hand on Akira’s shoulder. Akira’s body jerked and he looked at Akechi, eyes wide. _How cute_. He was reminded of Nara and the baby deer from a month ago—

“As time passes, it should get better.” That was what he was supposed to do in these situations, right? Comfort? “It may not happen tomorrow or the day after, but... I believe in you, Kurusu-kun.”

“Akechi-kun...”

He pulled his hand away before he got ahead of himself and did something notably stupid (like stroke Akira’s cheek or run his thumb over his lips), pressing that same hand to his chin in thought. “Still... if the faculty members are cautious of you, that attitude has surely rubbed off on the student body. _Should_ I walk you to school tomorrow?”

Akira’s laughter startled him out of his early ramblings and he glanced at him with a raised brow, opening his mouth to question what he thought was so funny. Akira beat him to it, however.

“Are you that worried?” The delight rolled off of him in waves, teasing against the edges of his smile. “You’re assuming it’s the teachers, too.”

“Of course. You simply met your teachers today, correct?” Akechi answered his mate easily, waving his hand in an arc. “They have no clue as to the severity of the assault. While they have every right to be concerned, teenagers are impressionable. One whisper in the halls will resonate.”

Not _can_ , or could, but will. Would.

Adults gossip. Children catch on to that and grow up to be gossiping teenagers. High school was torture for a delinquent who might’ve meant well, or for some you slipped up once and never again; Akechi knew that song and dance all too well.

His eyes sharpened and he gave Akira a look that was more stern than anything else. He couldn’t stress this enough.

“Be careful, Kurusu-kun.”

Teenagers and adults alike could be equally as vicious.

—

Akechi found Sae exactly where he left her: nose deep in work, coffee steaming, and completely unwilling to budge in way of not acknowledging him even when he approached to peek at the amount she had left.

He and Akira ended up gorging on curry at the counter and talking about meeting up the next morning - _this and that_ , Akechi obliging himself and soaking up Akira’s scent as if he were just submerging himself in it for the first time - until she finally snapped her briefcase shut and startled them both in the droll quiet.

Noticing her empty cup, Akechi asked, “You’re finished?”

There was some trace amusement lining his tone and he was sure she picked up on it. She had the mind to look a little sheepish as she nodded and finally looked at him.

“Yes. I’ve made considerable progress,” she said, eyes glancing at the Omega sitting next to him. “Is that your friend?”

_Friend._

The way she said it made it sound more like an accusation than an actual question. Akechi had half a mind to defend himself, but Akira beat him to the punch.

“I’m Akira,” he cut in, setting his spoon on his empty plate and turning his head so that he could address Sae directly. “Kurusu Akira. I’ll be living here until next year.”

Sae rose from her seat with a genial smile, nodding Akira’s way.

“I’m Nijima Sae.” Her briefcase full of work in hand, Sae properly approached them. Akechi’s hackles rose as she smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kurusu-kun. Akechi-kun never mentions anything about his friends, so I assumed he didn’t have time for them. I’m glad to see I was wrong.”

Resisting the urge to scoff, Akechi smiled through any of his own negativity at being teased by his own coworker.

Teased.

...Sae was teasing him?

Akechi's mouth opened to say something, stupified dumb, and all he managed was, "...I'm quite busy, so managing a job, school, and a social life is difficult. I am trying, however... as you can see."

She turned on him with a soft chuckle and a glitter to her eyes that wasn't there in the car, her scent finding his smiling. Sae was obviously in better spirits and Akechi wasn't sure if it was the peace and quiet or the coffee that did it.

That was good, though. He knew more than anyone how badly she needed time to herself.

("Well, aren't _you_ the station's little golden boy.")

Suppose, suppose, suppose. An assumption without proof, and requirement to do something or another because of a previous arrangement.

"I'm glad," Sae repeated, sounding and smelling as if she genuinely meant it. She shifted where she stood, countinuing, "I should be going now— I wouldn't want Makoto to wait up for me any longer. Will you be riding back with me?"

"Hm?"

"We live within a comfortable distance from each other. I wouldn't mind dropping you off on the way."

Ah, was she worried again? About him, or about Makoto? He found himself pathetically happy regardless of what the real answer was.

Akechi glanced outside at the dark of night and hummed. "...yes, perhaps that's for the best."

There was a large part of him that wasn't willing to leave Akira's side, so he was left to shift off of the chair he sat at, his smile open and a little radiant— everything he needed to be in the moment, catching Akira's attention without fail.

"Good night, Kurusu-kun. Try not to stay up too late, okay? If your nerves get the best of you, I'm only one call away."

It felt strange to offer so much of himself to someone he just met, but Akira was smiling and his gratitude was rolling out the red carpet for him. That, Akechi knew, was the right decision.

That, Akechi realized, felt _immensely_ , particularly wonderful.

(He wondered, briefly, if putting a bullet in between Shido's eyes would feel this good.)

He was able to hear Akira say goodbye and good night before he was following Sae out of the building, the click of her heels a constant drum in his ears as she walked ahead of him. To others, it likely looked like a younger Alpha defering to an older Alpha.

To Akechi, he was lost in the ability to breathe again.

Akira's scent was more clingy tonight. He thought he could still feel the moss in the zigzags of the underside of his shoes, but knew it was just his imagination. The way Akira's wonderland tried to get under his skin was... fascinating.

So fascinating that he could only numbly seat and buckle himself in the passenger seat, tuning everything and everyone else out.

A cursory check over himself confirmed that he indeed had no underlying reactions to Akira's scent, Sae's voice gently careening through his periphery hearing. He didn't catch what was said, just barely registering that she spoke at all, and he hummed, his eyes searching for her in the darkness.

She chuckled, soft and amused. It was a smooth sound and Akechi found himself unmindful of it.

"Was he the reason you were researching true mates?"

Her car was already started, her hands steering them out of her parking space and onto the road.

"...you're straightforward, as always," he complimented vaguely, leaning back in his seat to try and relax after being wrung dry in the Amazon. "Was it that obvious?"

"Haha... more than you may think," Sae said in good cheer, her eyes on the road ahead. "I don't think I've ever seen you look at someone the way you look at him. I couldn't understand at first, but if it's because he's yours..."

Right. Akechi looked at people and saw liars in the husks of men, the very trash of society meant to be used for his revenge. So, how did he look at Akira?

In his heart's heart, he was too afraid to know, so he didn't ask.

"I see. That's an astute observation— I'm almost curious what you saw."

Sojiro's secrets were lemon and, sometimes, orange-flavored. Sae's smelled of baking powder and ginger; it wasn't entirely unpleasant, but it made him narrow his eyes for a moment and cover his suspicion with a smile.

She said nothing for a long while and he were content to sit in comfortable silence.

There was plenty to think about. He had to walk Akira to school tomorrow, his own school to attend, work to visit, further research to do. Maybe there was more digging that he could do? People who had similar experiences, familiar stories...

"Akechi-kun." The call of his name had him glancing over - a silent signal for her to continue. She took it easily. "If you're still interested in looking into the matter, I know a few people who have had experience regarding true mates. I could always ask them if they would be willing to speak with you about it."

That—

His eyes went wide, his disbelief genuine. "Truly?" _You would do that for me?_

"Of course, you would likely have to disclose why you're asking about it— it's an intensely private matter," Sae said, the choice crystal clear. "If you're interested and you don't mind talking about it, I'd be willing to contact them."

That would be convenient. It was almost _too_ convenient, too intimate a topic for Akechi to imagine anyone being willing to speak about, but if Sae was offering for the paltry exchange of information on Akechi's own true mate, then what did he have to lose?

His pride, maybe. His dignity? Did he have much of those left when it came to his own mate?

On the other hand, if any of Sae's contacts were talkers...

Sae must have noticed the way that his expression had intensified because she was smiling again and saying, "Don't worry. It'll be strictly confidential, I promise."

There was that, Akechi guessed. Sae's _promise_ , her word, was something to hold up to the sun to test if it would catch fire and turn to ask.

Could he take Sae at her word? She hadn't been known to _lie_ , so it wasn't anything Akechi was really worried about, but— could the others be trusted? Akechi could always judge it as he met them and make up a lie as he went along. It was dishonest and rude, sure, and he needed to be careful to keep it up and going, but he would be fine he was sure—

"Akechi-kun. It's okay."

Was it? Akechi wasn't so sure himself. He had a true mate who couldn't smell him or feel anything for him beyond what a Beta would, and he didn't know if he wanted that to change. The fear that bubbled up inside of him just thinking that he could be rejected for his past, present, and future transgressions made him want to shrivel up in a corner and die.

But— that was neither here, nor now.

He looked to Sae with a smile - a small, insecure little thing, hidden away by the dark - and nodded.

"I... think I'd like that, if you truly wouldn't mind."

—

Something broke inside of Goro, chains rattling as two cards formed in his mind - what little he knew about tarot confirmed that it was Judgement and Justice, shimmering in the back of his head like two beacons in the night - and promptly shattered, butterflies cascading around him in happy twirls.

_Thank you, Hero._

A bell tolled in the distance, signaling the end. (Or the beginning, he noted, Loki writhing inside of him.)

A scythe, and a severed head; a cellphone lighting the path—

_Make this interesting for us both, **Hero.**_

—

Akechi saved his pain-filled wheeze for when he slammed the door of his apartment shut and doubled over, clutching at his chest. Bile built up at the bottom of his throat, ready to engage the water at the bottom of his toilet in all-out war.

‘Thank you.’

 _What a waste_ , he thought dimly, eyes unfocused. _The curry today was quite nice._

‘Hero.’

He fell asleep with those words echoing poison in his brain, their intent heavier than the words that had followed.

—

Akechi waited outside of Leblanc in his school uniform, peacoat wrapped tight around him to stave off the strange chill in the air that morning. Exercise was routine and sluggish, but he'd powered through; now he was standing with Akira's name in his mind and on the tips of his fingers, resisting the urge to just walk inside Leblanc.

He needed to try and keep himself calm. Once Akira walked out, Akechi's senses were going to hone entirely in on him.

Some amount of control was necessary.

He caught sight of movement through the glass windows, realizing that Akira was on his way out. He was in Shujin's black uniform with his bag slung over his shoulder, and— _he's holding another bag?_ Curious, Akechi tried sniffing at the air, but the second Akira was outside he was encompassed by fairies and fantasy wonderlands, instantly enraptured and on edge.

_Remain calm._

"He made curry again," Akira said, flipping the CLOSED sign to OPEN with his back to Akechi before turning to him with a smile. He reached out, the bag in his hand crinkling awkwardly, and continued, "This is your portion."

For a moment, all that Akechi could do was stare at the bag; he half-expected something to pop out of it, an unwanted surprise set out to bite at and agitate his stress. 

His portion?

Akira's lips perked at the corners and his eyes twinkled, Akechi almost missing it if not for the fact that his mischievousness smelled like sweet cotton. He was probably going to tease him for his hesitance, so Akechi decided to relent, taking the bag from Akira with a bright smile and a huff of laughter. _Don't kick a gift horse in the mouth._

"How considerate of him. I'll have to thank him later." The weight settled weirdly in his hold, but he figured he would adjust. His skill at adapting was strong, warm fuzzies be damned. "Shall we go? The trains are running a little late today because of the accidents."

'Accidents.'

When talking to Akira, that word burned on his tongue, acid-lined and foul, tasting particularly wretched. Akechi wouldn't call it guilt, but he certainly felt less proud of engaging in the murder-equivalent of taking out the trash. Oh, well.

Akira was nodding before Akechi could muse any longer and he shoved all of the cheerfulness that he could muster into his voice as they turned to head out of the alley. His voice carried, Akira seeming content to listen - _the weather this morning is fantastic, it must mean we'll have a good day ahead of us_ \- left-fielding at the intersection and scaling the street and stairs without trouble.

The station wasn't as crowded as it usually was, but he still found Akira and himself sandwiched against the door once they got on the train. Akira held his bag close to his chest, but was otherwise safely tucked against Akechi's side. From their proximity, Akira's scent canceled out everyone else's; Akechi was thankful for that.

His own disdain for other people's scents was— inconvenient when they were in such a small space. He was almost envious of Akira for not being able to smell, if only if didn't block him from being able to smell Akechi as well.

 _Shame_.

His lashes lowered and he sighed, saying, "I thought from the amount of people at the station that we wouldn't be as crowded in here... My deduction was off, wasn't it?"

Akira's smile washed into his vision and smashed straight through his ability to be pessimistic with its tidal wave clarity.

"It's only for a little bit," he reasoned, looking at him through his fake lenses rather than over them. Akechi could almost make out the brand name on the side of he wasn't so infatuated with the overcast skies in Akira's eyes. "But I guess the rumors about the Tokyo subway are true. Sorry for not believing you yesterday."

"Ah— you're forgiven," Akechi said quickly, his lips curving into an easy smile. "I can hardly blame you. The ride you were on the day you arrived in Tokyo wasn't that bad."

The two girls behind Akira caught his eye when he realized that they were staring at him with dawning comprehension and high-cheek blushes. _Uh-oh._ Akira's innocent eyes were turned to the screens behind Akechi when he tried looking back at him to ignore the incoming bother. _Damn_.

Normally, Akechi didn't mind the attention. He reveled in it, happily soaking up his fans's affections and praise like a sponge with a praise kink.

 _Normally_ , he wasn't out walking his mate to school with a time grind gearing straight into the wall.

In conclusion: any attention would be a bother right now.

Thankfully, the girls said nothing to him after he shot them a small smile and he was left to his own thoughts until they arrived at their destination - _Shibuya, this is Shibuya_ \- and he piled off of the train with Akira at his back. 

It was easy to dart off with him, not wanting their time together to be cut short - because as much as Akechi enjoyed the spotlight, they had a transfer to catch - the way to the Ginza Line already clear to him.

The station was as lively as he expected, the chatters all grouped together. They were nothing he hadn't heard before despite the panic over the train accident, but Akira seemed especially keen on eavesdropping. His soft, questioning _hm_ always gave it away.

It was sort of cute in a morbid way to watch Akira flit around the area, pretty little butterfly wings stretching guiding him through pixie dust and rumors without an afterthought. Akechi adored his carefree attitude for all of three seconds before he caught himself.

Because, of course, his eavesdropping detours led him to the wrong Line, so Akechi took it upon himself to grab the reigns.

"Kurusu-kun," He called, pointing overhead while Akira tried to trail off and investigate the frozen drink stand. Aojiru was interesting, but they had places to be. "Let's go up. I know you're excited, but we really do need to catch the next train as early as possible."

He blamed his own fondness on Akira's childlike enthusiasm, but was glad when Akira got the memo and returned to his side to head upstairs to Station Square.

His awareness shot through the lack of a roof at the two people in front of Teikyu— _reporters_.

How he wished, minutely, to appear as small as a mouse.

_I need to get Kurusu-kun to school..._

Akira, as curious as he was at the sight, tried to eavesdrop again, but Akechi lured him straight into Teikyu and up the first flight of stairs with the intent to move as quickly as possible. His mate trailed behind him with quick steps, likely - hopefully ( _GN, GN..._ ) - sensing Akechi's urgency, and followed him up another length of stairs.

_Ginza Line._

Finally.

The train rolled in and as soon as the doors opened and a lump sum of people walked out, Akechi swept Akira inside with all the tenacity of a goal-driven Alpha. 

He was handsomely rewarded for his hard work when he spotted an open seat and quickly ushered Akira's body into it with gentle hands not quite touching his back, but instead waving, pressing the bag of curry into his other hand to clench both it and his attaché case. Once free, Akechi put his hand in the top grip, clenching it firmly as he stood in front of Akira.

Akira gave him a curious look, but otherwise said nothing in response to what was obviously instinct talking.

A protective wall, just for him; he'd fancy himself the Great Wall of China, but Akechi was fairly certain flesh versus tens of thousands of miles of stone and brick was already a strange enough battle by itself. It was enough to be able to hide Akira from prying eyes.

The ride to Akira's last stop was pleasantly peaceful amongst the chatter on the train - little birds, all incapable of quieting about the accident, fearful and hushed - and Akechi found himself staring out the windows at the underground walls. They cast a dark, eerie green shadow overhead and below him, and Mementos called to his hindmind.

("Thank you, hero.")

His hand clenched around the strap and his eyes narrowed.

It was the voice of a child— a little girl, soft-spoken and gentle. He felt like, if he thought about it hard and long enough, he could almost picture her in his mind's eye.

"Akechi-kun?"

His head jerked down, catching the gleam of Akira's glasses. "Hmm? Is something wrong?"

He couldn't see Akira's eyes behind the glare, but Akechi had the strange feeling that he had been stared at for quite a while. That was usually Akechi's job— how quaint.

When Akechi offered Akira a smile, Akira ended up shaking his head, and the garish green (and red and black, danger oozing back into the cracks) bled out of the world.

Peace.

—

Aoyama-Itchome allowed Akechi to breathe without feeling suffocated by anyone's individual scent. Akira's was still plugged up in his nasal cavity, but the moisture in the air fought to drill a hole through it.

It being moist, though, told him one thing: rain.

"Whoa, hey, is it raining?"

There were students all over the station and most of them didn't have an umbrella. He felt a little less foolish for being unprepared, but still scolded himself none the less. Once they were closer to the top, the umbrellas began running passed them, and Akechi was left to wonder if the forecast that morning said anything about rain.

He was in such a rush this morning, dazed from that strange dream. Had he even checked?

Akechi didn't have the chance to think on it further because Akira was suddenly running, seeking shelter from the sprinkles. He watched him huddle under the makeshift umbrella of a clothing store's canopy, looking up at the sky as if it purposely attacked him.

It was sort of cute in a weird sorry-my-mate-is-an-actual-cat sort of way. He even had a little pink petal stuck in his hair for his troubles, his eyes wide when he turned them to his phone and looked at whatever was on the screen.

Laughing under his breath, Akechi braved the rain to step at Akira's side, noting how a girl with red tights and a white hood joined them at the same time. Akira's attention was immediately earned by their visitor and they both watched (dumbly) as she removed her hood and her blonde pigtails popped, not a hair out of place.

Envy curled in his gut. Oh, how it paid to be born with natural beauty.

He watched when she looked at them and noticed they were staring at her, prompting him to make a soft noise and say, genial, "You were caught unaware as well?"

Her laughter was soft when she nodded and replied, "Yeah. I don't remember if the forecast even said it was going to rain... I guess you can't always be prepared for anything, huh?"

"Haha... perhaps you're right." Prompt preparedness was meant for mothers and caregivers. "I don't mind the rain, but... I do wish it chose a better time to fall."

"Ugh, seriously. I was trying to get to school on time, but that's not gonna happen now unless I wanna risk looking like a drenched rat... not cool."

She seemed friendly enough, her blue eyes honest and reflective of her mood and words. _She's a good person_ , his mind supplied easily. _Genuine and straight forward._

"Oh! Hang on a second— you have something in your hair."

Akechi found himself smiling on automatic - lights, camera, _action_ \- his expression frozen in that smile as he proceeded to let her reach out to _his_ Omega, plucking that small pink petal Akechi spotted only moments ago.

White hot unsensible rage flew through him. But, the lights were blinding, the camera was rolling, and when he heard _action_ , Akira was already letting out a soft _oh_ and recovering from his presumed shell shock.

His mind registered three things at once: Alpha male, Omega male, Alpha female.

Which way did Akira swing?

Any specific way didn't matter to Akechi, personally - male or female, if they smelled good and caught his interest (or were of use), he was fine - but now that he had Akira's scent dancing all around him, any future sexual endeavors were null and void. Akira ruined him for life, and now—

Now the other Alpha was looking away with a satisfied smile and Akechi completely missed if anything else had been said.

 _Ding-ding_ : another point of logic in favor of keeping his distance from Akira.

Just as he processed that information, a car was pulling up nearby and the window was being rolled down despite the rain. Odd, that, but who was he to judge other people's quirks? 

—unless it wasn't a quirk.

A man in a blue track uniform was inside - the wind and rain did nothing to wash away the pugent scent of _sin, disgust, danger_ that came with anyone who had strong enough desires to manifest outside of Mementos - and he was leaning towards the open passenger window with a smile almost as genial as Akechi's own.

 _Liar_. (Hypocrite—)

He knew, immediately, that he wanted Akira to stay as far away from this man as he possibly could. Nothing even remotely positive could come from speaking with him and his sudden presence had Akechi's rage flowing down and out, his presence lingering at Akira's side.

"Good morning. You want me to give you a ride to school? You're gonna be late," he offered, only leaving Akechi unsure for a moment before the girl who had joined them beneath their makeshift shelter spoke up.

"Um, sure. Thank you."

He and Akira both watched her go, her chunky heels clicking across the water-covered pavement. The man looked at them as she approached his car and extended his offer again: "Do you need a lift, too?"

From this distance, Akechi looked beneath the underneath: this man had an aim and he was shooting with twenty-twenty vision.

He didn't want them to come.

It was obvious who he was speaking to this time, but before Akechi could gently turn him down with the demure countenance of an Omega, Akira was smiling and waving him off with a soft _nah_.

Good. Akechi may have wanted to keep his distance, but he also wanted Akira to keep in line with that desire as well. He shouldn't be anywhere near Palace-worthy vermin. 

Akira already had one close call - too close for comfort - with the Metaverse. The last thing he needed was a reminder.

The girl buckled in mechanically once she was safely inside the car (however safe it really was didn't matter to Akechi in his heart as long as it wasn't Akira), and Akechi couldn't help himself. He had the eyes and mind of a detective, after all, and what he ended up taking real note of was her downcast expression as the window rolled up and the car sped off.

He only wondered vaguely what it was all about. She seemed pleasant enough; if he'd kept her with them and walked both she and Akira to Shujin, could they have avoided whatever made her unhappy?

Ah.

He forgot to scent her.

His thoughts came back to Akira, though, when he looked at him and noticed how close he stepped to Akira during that little exchange. He could see, clearly, the red and black screen of Akira's phone as he held it up with one hand, Akira's body heat beckoning him closer with their shoulders brushing.

Akechi knew that screen too well and a bout of panic pushed into his throat.

 _Nononono_ —

Akira himself finally took notice of their proximity as well, but before either of them could pull away encroaching splashes caught their attention. Fire-stront anger and frustration licked into the oxygen around him, another blond Alpha running and stopping just a pace or two in front of them, glaring into the distance ahead.

"Dammit..." _Fitting._ "Screw that pervy teacher."

_...what?_

The screen of Akira's phone had already split, ready for coordinates— keywords to unlock the forbidden, pressing against Akechi's danger sensor. _Not now_ , he begged, resisting his rapid fire urge to take Akira's phone away from him and smash it against the concrete.

"...pervy teacher?" Akira naturally questioned the words and all of Akechi's senses honed in on his phone as it registered that as a goddamn _keyword_.

"Kurusu-kun—"

If he was a teacher, then just the faintest whisper of _Shujin_ , or _school_ , would have the navigator blasting through the wall between the real world and the Metaverse with such brutal force that Akira wouldn't be able to tell left from right.

_Dear, let it go._

The other Alpha - another student from Shujin, Akechi noted dimly - turned on them with a soft, confused noise as his anger all but let itself be washed away by the rain. The fire was instead replaced by a simmering pot of water on a stove, him squaring his shoulders and stalking closer.

Deviated uniform, blond hair ( _his roots are black_ ), unrefined slouch, nasty glare, favoritism for one side as opposed to the other— delinquent? With an injury? _Ugh, great._ This was exactly what they needed right now.

Agitation washed over Akechi and he endured, valiantly, as the other Alpha spoke, "What do you want? You plannin' on rattin' me out to Kamoshida?"

_Kamoshida? Who the hell is Kamoshida?_

Before Akechi could answer, his face carefully blank, Akira cocked his head and asked, "What do you mean?"

Akechi's eyes lowered for a moment to Akira's phone, blinking. Green floor, fireflies in the air, Akira's confusion a buzzing perfume—

"Huh?" His expression dropped to match Akira's scent. "In that car just now. It was Kamoshida."

Ah, yes. That made sense now. The delinquent ( _student_ , his mind lashed, wanting to rectify his habit of judgment at least while Akira was around) didn't bother hiding his absolutely hatred for Kamoshida, spitting venom and breathing fire with a forked tongue. Akira, as sweet as he was turning out to be, only grew more concerned as time passed.

Akechi thought about it again: _dear, please, don't encourage him. Let it go._

His head began to throb, but as soon as the words 'a king of a castle' left Akira's mouth, Akechi pressed his hand against the middle of Akira's back in warning. Akira didn't bat an eyelash, of course, and the overall confusion had the other _student_ , as vulgar as he was, leaking airy confidence by the second.

"No, I mean..." He trailed off, slouching to his right for a second. It took him no longer to lean on his left leg, crossing his arms as some of his fierceness returned as bewilderment. "Wait. You don't know Kamoshida? Are you for real? You're _from_ Shujin, right?"

Assumptions. All assumptions from presumptuous people making Akechi want to fall back into old habits and slide the hand on Akira's back upwards, clutching Akira's shoulder as he asked if the other boy went to Shujin too, much to his disbelief.

"What...? No other high school's got a uniform like this." His eyes were all dark, bitter chocolate as his hands found his pockets again and quickly pinpointed what he was looking for. "A second-year, huh... We're the same grade, then. Never seen you before, though."

Akechi super glued his smile back on his face while the other tried playing detective - Akechi would've been able to tell Akira was new from a mile away, come on now - identifying Akira's status and turning a little more open and a lot less frustrated as he spoke and switched body language.

That was all well and good until inquiring eyes landed on him and in his haste to just _stop talking so the Metaverse didn't swallow them whole_ , he waved his free hand, saying, "Ah, I actually attend a different school. I was simply walking him on his first day."

Those same eyes quickly took in his hand on Akira's shoulder and he turned halfway. _Oh?_

"...alright," he started, leaning his weight on his right leg. _Hmm?_ "This rain ain't too bad. We better hurry up, or we'll be late."

Fascinating. He was a delinquent worried about being la—

His head _pulsed_ , Akira and their new acquaintance dropping and holding their heads as if a meteor crashed square into their skulls. Akechi felt Loki scrambling to the surface, hissing his excitement, making Akechi realize, belatedly, what happened as black and blue tried swirling over his skin.

The last keywords.

_Akira already said them._

"Robin Hood..." His murmur carried itself on the wind, concern swiftly following as his hand left Akira's shoulder to rub his back and soothe the ache away. "Are you alright, Kurusu-kun?"

His mate took a second to answer, slowly raising his head with a hesitant nod. "Yeah. I just felt light-headed for some reason..." Akira's eyes melted into something more apologetic. "Sorry— I know we need to hurry."

Heart thudding, Akechi shook his head to dismiss Akira's worry, eying the other male as well. "And you?"

It was only polite, wasn't it? Looking rude in front of Akira wasn't on Akechi's plate.

"I'm _fine_ ," he said, fingers in his short hair, rubbing at his head. "My head just— hurt for a second. This sucks..."

Smaller, quieter, gentler: _dammit... I wanna go home._

Akechi could sympathize with the feeling. His first trip into the Metaverse as disgustingly unpleasant. Regardless— his eyes darted around, both of his Persona beating to life in his soul as if sensing his desire to watch out.

But— everything seemed... normal.

People were walking around normally, nothing out of the ordinary with their behaviors or expressions. Akechi himself hadn't yet donned his usual attire, either. It was still raining, the sky as stormy as Akechi's own heart, and as they walked down an alleyway where he supposed was a simple shortcut, things only seemed— right, if not for the sense of _wrongness_ in the air. It was quite the conundrum.

Was it a fluke? Was he missing something? Akira put his phone away, the screen pouring over red and black again— so, soon? _Nonono_. If he took his phone out right now and exited wherever they ended up, could he avoid the awkward confrontation?

His mind raced for a solution his body was too slow to produce. Panic slowly laced into his joints as he tailed Akira, glad for the Spring rain being his unlikely ally and washing his scent down every drain and cranny it could flow to, into, and through.

He was less glad for the looming presence of a medieval castle coming into his periphery, every inch a tolling bell.

 _It sates itself on the life-blood of fated men, paints red the powers's homes with crimson gore_ , Loki hissed, reciting a poem a woman from long ago dreamily recited to Akechi on the verge of death.

The first rooster would crow soon and, _oh_ , how he wished it wouldn't.

 _No man will have mercy on another,_ Loki started again, quieter. 

It almost sounded like sympathy.


	3. april 11 - 12 (edelweiss)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sakurai takahiro voice: never ask me for anything again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i personally find palaces very boring to write, so won't be writing any of the palaces in depth after this :( i tried and my writing just... became so lackluster, much more than it already is lmao. forgive me for skimming all future palace ventures if nothing really changes!!
> 
> trivia from twitter dms:
> 
> me: no one wants to read about goro doing his ten step skin care routine every day  
> friend: I DO. I WANNA KNOW HOW HE DOES I—  
> me: then just imagine that one vid of the girl who peeled off the layer of dead skin from her face  
> friend:  
> friend: I REGRET
> 
> (it was a JOKE, i swear—)
> 
> all mistakes are mine, pls point them out and beat me with them, thank you. hanged man is stagnant at rank 8.

"Did we take a wrong turn?"

A head of blond hair turned, Akira's own soon following. "Uh... no? I mean, we didn't... come the wrong way." His head and Akira's both turned right back to the castle as Akechi avidly and tempestuously tried not to flip out on him. "Yeah. This should be right. What's goin' on here...?"

 _Should_ be right? Akechi's brow twitched.

Not for the first time, Akechi contemplated shooting something to burn the edge off of his flaming temper. His hands felt itchy with the need to grab his pistol and just—

"We should turn back," Akechi cut in primly, squinting at the wooden boards leading up to the entrance. Loki's power was licking over his skin, desperate to claw its way out of its neatly tied up state. "If we retrace our steps, we should be able to figure out if we were truly going the right way."

"Huh!?" He felt the weight of their new acquaintance's stare boring holes into him. Akechi knew what that look said without even needing to hear his next words.

"It's not that I doubt you, but it doesn't hurt to be safe."

It would give Akechi time to drag them out of the mess that Idiot A and his mate threw them into without so much as a care in the world.

Like all else, though, it didn't go quite his way.

"No way, man. Let's just go in and ask what's going on. I mean," he started, gesturing wildly to the nameplate in plain sight, "it _says_ Shujin, so it's gotta be Shujin!"

Akechi couldn't argue with that logic, but it didn't make him any less angry. There were at least ten things wrong with that logic given the supernatural occurrence in front of them that their newly crowned King Idiot delinquent didn't give him time to point out. He was already moving, having the mind to be a little hesitant while he did, and Akira was looking back at him with all the decency in the world.

Was he asking for permission?

It wasn't like Akechi wouldn't be able to get Akira out if he had to. One word or gesture and he was sure Akira would follow himself back; it seemed like he trusted him to a degree even without the ability to scent and for that, Akechi was glad.

He was so glad that he nodded however hesitant.

If they could get in, decide it was too creepy and weird, then leave, they should be fine. It didn't feel like the Palace was on high alert yet, so, theoretically, they could still get away unscathed.

Theoretically.

God.

Why him? Why _today_ , while he was with his not-a-delinquent-mate who desperately needed to avoid trouble?

"Akechi?"

"I'm coming," he toned, keeping the aggravation out of his tone and flocking to Akira's side as they walked in together.

(A glowing blue door caught his attention on the way to the entrance, but he didn't have the time to investigate beyond a glance and a curious tilt of the head, eyes lingering a bit on a vent atop a few crates. Akechi had more important things to do— like, avoiding shadows, and getting Akira outside before too much time passed because it was so, so easy to lose track of time in the Metaverse.)

Stepping inside the castle through the front door, ever foolish, didn't change Akechi's opinion that they should turn around and retrace their steps.

Carpeted red floors, black and white tiles, lit, golden candles, and an overhead chandelier painted a fairly clear picture that this was no longer Shujin Academy. The pillars, grand staircase, and huge painting of who Akechi assumed was the Palace ruler, assuming also that he was incredibly full of himself for it.

It all screamed _Palace_ and that was all Akechi needed to know to understand that he had to come to a decision _quickly_. If they turned around now, Akechi could find an excuse to—

"What's going on here?"

—get out of the Metaverse and keep Akira safe. He was so sure, and yet...

He spotted Akira mid-sigh turning his head from side-to-side, postured away from Akechi. All that he could see was Ragnarok's beginning and Helen of Troy, a temptation for the him he tried so hard to bury with a stretch of neck that Akechi still wanted to taste.

"Did we make a wrong turn after all?"

"N-no! This has to be it!" Their acquaintance yelled, looking a bit panicked. His scent was laced with evergreen, his words faltering. "I mean, it... should be..."

A candle flickered in Akechi's periphery, the area distorting all around them for a single moment.

Akechi stepped closer to Akira's back with a determined glint to his eye and hummed, distracted, feeling the air around him electrify. Akira's scent wasn't as strong as it was outside and it made him yearn for it all the more. A little bit of comfort and he could just—

His skin was beginning to feel like it was burning, though, and heaven forbid, that wasn't a good sign. He wasn't here to spook anyone.

Akira was _looking_ at him now, questioning something again, and Akechi felt his head swimming, the sound of his own heart pumping blood in his ears acting as the beat keeping him from fully understanding. Because— because, yes, there's no service in the Metaverse, and _wasn't it you who said the sign was for the school and plowed forward without care_?

And, it was Akechi who allowed Akira to follow provided he allowed himself, as well, to trail behind as Akira's faithful shadow.

 _They're coming_ , Robin Hood warned, his voice like gravel beneath Akechi's heart, grinding against it.

_Let the slaughter begin!!_

Thunking metal cut clear through Akechi's thoughts and his Persona's words, settling acid pressed into his conscience. The sight of a hulking suit of armor carrying a too-pointy-to-be-safe sword and shining shield made every overprotective Alpha bone in Akechi's body rattle with the urge to snatch Akira's thin wrist and book it, foolish blond included or no. Fight or flight senses flickering like the strongly burning candles around them, he inched closer to Akira with that very intent.

His one vital mistake was that he grossly overestimated their acquaintance's survival instincts.

"Geez, you freaked me out... Who're you? You a student?" And, without a shred of intelligence, he began approaching the Shadow with leisurely steps. Akira had falling into a false sense of security himself, his hands shoved in his pockets as his bag bulged between his arm and side. "Man, your costume's impressive... Is that armor real?"

He had the _gall_ to sound genuinely impressed - and, okay, _maybe_ it would be impressive if Akechi didn't already realize what was going on and what that thing really was - like this was just a tv set and he was seeing the props for the first time. His arms crossed and Akechi felt the air all around them take an abrupt and uncalled for nosedive that could only signify one thing.

Akechi watched the other boy's arms cross and let his impatient tempest of a scent whirl around his while he spoke, "C'mon, don't just stand there. Say somethin'."

His body snapped straight at the sound of approaching footsteps and Akechi bit back the curse on the tip of his tongue.

How important were appearances when violence was coming into the picture?

Entering through the front and engaging with the enemy had the Shadows on high alert. Akechi could sense the apprehension rolling off of Akira and the other student, his skin crawling from the hostility spiking the air. It was like someone shone a spotlight on them so everyone knew: _the intruders are here_.

Was it time to fight? Could Akechi call out for Loki or Robin Hood soundlessly so as to not arouse suspicion? There would be a lot of explaining to do later if he simply used his full strength.

Akira's leg kicked out behind himself, narrowly missing Akechi's foot, as he asked his fellow student what was going on. His answer was negative and laced with fear that soon crept out as he took on a more defensive stance. His survival instincts were finally kicking in.

 _Finally_ , Akechi sneered, his expression momentarily faltering. His own disgust should have been palpable.

"...this shit's real," he said, backing away as the Shadows approached another step. The fear made a violent comeback, his brown eyes wide; sinking, sinking, _silly boy, it hasn't even started_. Akechi watched his entire body tense up, muscles coiled. "C-calm down! Time out, man!"

 _Two more from the back_. Akechi reached out, taking Akira's elbow in his palm and briefly screaming. Even if thhey ran now, they'd never make it. It had been suicidal from the start to enter from the front.

Akira looked at him with those wide, gray eyes, and suddenly— Akechi didn't care. They'd turned to run for the entrance - foolish, really - but Akechi felt the heat crawling over his skin, and—

_You're going to fight and hide at the same time?_

_You had no right to judge me_ , he thought in the same hiss Loki let out at the dissatisfaction of not being utilized, thrown out to attack. Dazzlingly blue-hued, white light, a red mask—

"Manifest, Persona!"

 

Megidola was too much, he realized belatedly.

 

The Shadows didn't have time to split themselves open and attack. Brilliant, blinding light stabbed into them, and Akechi had to thank whatever God there was out there that Robin Hood was the one to push to the surface and answer his call.

(Robin Hood— he was born yesterday, wasn't he? In the sea of his soul, his desire to protect, his desire to monopolize, to not run away— to steal from fate and take unto himself, that beautiful, shining desire to be a better him that he was so that he could be without regret.

Robin Hood, born from him as an Alpha. Loki, born from him as a person. Who was the real Akechi Goro—)

Swathed in red, white, and gold, Akechi snapped into action and out with hands, taking both presumed delinquents by the wrists, dragging them away with an extra layer of urgency.

The red mask felt strange on his face after so long wearing the black one. The clothes themselves were comfortable, lies aside, and while he was sure he could wax poetic about it until the day he died there was the small issue of his own reckless, disproportionate fear that Akira would find it just as ridiculous as he did at first glance.

Maybe Akechi just needed more sleep. Heaven only knew he wasn't getting enough of it with how busy he was, how much stress he'd chosen to take on for the sake of his goals.

He had no more time to ponder it, though. Robin Hood took out the Shadows at the front gate, but they were in a dining hall now, navigating their way in Kamoshida's mindmaze.

"Hey!" Yelling, loud, _annoying_ , honestly, and not his mate— "Where are we going!?"

The voice sounded beat, but Akechi couldn't afford to stop. There was always two ways in and one way out with two different ways to get there that were usually parallel to each other. They could go the long way or wait out the group at the entrance, but Akechi thought he saw a ventilation shaft or two along the way that he—

He could take advantage of.

(Speaking of—)

They deftly ducked and tucked behind walls and boxes, anything they could hide behind, until they ended up in what was very painfully obviously the castle's dungeons.

"Dude, what's that sound?"

Right. In trying to be chivalrous, he saved their unlucky new friend as well.

What a stupid decision. _Why not just leave him to rot? Sacrifice him. It's not too late_ —

Way, way too late. No monster in the sea of his soul could tell him otherwise and he was left to his own musings as they hid from an enemy on alert down the hall.

... _every Shadow is on the move looking for intruders_ , he thought, carefully ignoring the quiet bickering behind him between his mate and his mate's classmate. _If we can catch them off guard right now, we might be able to get further inside._

Of course, there was always the tactic of smashing right through, but Akechi had dead weight with him - one far more precious than the other - so that was a no-go. He wasn't particularly looking forward to trying to fight while protecting not just one, but two people.

His eyes narrowed to slits and he kept his saber close to his side.

The sound from before was really bothering him. The night constant pleas for the pain to stop, but never for someone to help, was grating on every little nerve in his body. Nobody cared enough to help; the Palace ruler believed in his own reality of dominant power, after all.

It was a disgusting world. The sooner they were out, the better.

He was strong enough holding himself back that one stab of his saber gave him the initiative he needed to blow one well-placed Kouga, its light illuminating their path forward, sliding straight through Pixie and disgruntled stallion alike. Loki reveled in the chance to unleash Akechi's aggression and Robin Hood was thankful to be nursing Akechi's (selfish) will to protect. 

Really, Akechi himself was full of so many thoughts and feelings in the moment that he was content enough to pave the way to the exit by himself; the merry-go-round loop they were running in didn't matter one lick. He was fully intent on keeping Akira safe.

The dungeon, however, was full of dead ends, and they were still being chased from the front. Would they have to go back—?

"...Hey, you there."

No. If they wanted to go back the way they came, they would have to lie low for a while and that heightened the chances of them being caught. Wasn't there a Safe Room somewhere along the way? Akechi was moving so fast so urgently that he didn't get the chance to fully check things out.

"Blondie! Frizzy Hair! Red Mask! Look over here!"

Ah, but—

Akechi's eyes turned to the cell smack dab at the end of the hall to his right where he caught sight of a small creature struggling with the bars, a paw waving at him through the cracks.

"What _is_ this thing!?" He heard to his left, but dutifully ignored it as he'd done the last however long they'd been running. He couldn't deny his curiosity either, though.

Big, blue eyes, a black, cartoon-like cat body with yellow buttons and a yellow scarf. The brightest colors all seemed to pop in the dreary dungeon area and Akechi wondered if it wasn't that thing that spoke, as dismayed as it looked.

"You're not soldiers of this castle, right!? Get me out of here!" That confirmed it as well as anything. _God_ , it was a talking cat creature; Akechi felt a migraine coming on. "Look, the key's _right there_!"

Ever the one to call contrary, their blond delinquent aggressively replied, "We're trying to get the hell out of here...! I mean, you obviously look like an enemy, too!"

He wasn't wrong, but— Akechi's eyes searched the now-incredulous creature's face, and he deduced - from both the look, his panic, the fact that he was behind the bars begging for help - that it... wasn't a _threat_. He didn't make Loki or Robin Hood writhe like the rest.

Not a threat.

Not an enemy, however...

"He _is_ locked up here," Akechi noted, still alert of his surroundings. "The likelihood of him being an enemy is fairly low."

"Whose side are you on, anyway?!"

His panic smelled lukewarm now. Powerless.

Coward.

"I see one of you has your head on strai—"

It was at that time that Akira piped out, his scent sweeping the floor and gliding through the air, shoving itself out of Akechi's periphery and into his face as he questioned, "...a cat?"

Akechi sucked in a sharp breath belatedly while Akira's forestry overloaded him and knocked him off of his game, his entire world tilting. He was sure it was an unhealthy thing, the flood of devotion curling up inside of him, threatening to overtake everything he knew.

The cat monster, whatever it was, was instantly angered. His anger was peppery and thin, firecracker quick as he yellow, "I am NOT a cat! Say that again and I'll make you regret it!"

"From your place behind those bars?" Akechi questioned quietly, covering his mouth with his hand briefly as if it could help control how much he was taking in. Akira wasn't even aware he was flaring his scent out, Akechi was sure. "That threat would make you our enemy, would it not?"

Panic.

"That wasn't what I me—"

The familiar sound of heavy rustling hit their ears and they all went ramrod straight alert, Akechi finding himself lagging behind in reaction. What felt like thick roots were wrapped all around him, holding him in place, keeping him from fully being on his game, Akira's fear a paralyzing one.

"They're catchin' up already...!" Brown eyes turned to him and he was left to try and adjust his mask to hide how thoroughly wrecked he felt. "Hey, are you really gonna be able to take on that many!?"

It wasn't impossible, Akechi was sure. If his mind were all there at the moment and Akira weren't anywhere near him, he might've responded firelick quick. When they were running, he didn't have time to take in Akira's scent. But here, standing around, he had very little choice.

Akira was going to be the _death_ of him.

"Can't we just fire straight through them? Use that thing you used earlier!" Hands flailed upwards and around in an arc in what Akechi assumed was a poor mock of Robin Hood's Megidola. "That— that Megi- _doule_ thing!"

_Oh, for heaven's sake._

"Hey, you three!" Akechi's attention was split: the cat monster talking, roots coiling around his neck, and the enemies approaching from where they came in from. "I can totally help you guys get out of here, you know. All you gotta do is let me out!"

What could a _cat_ contribute? Loki was writhing inside of him, desperate to be released, and yet—

"And what would you be doing to assist us in our escape?" He took the bait, shifting to fully look at the cat monster again. "Are you capable of defending yourself, as well as these two? If you were caught in the first place, I would assume you're rather weak to begin with. The entire Palace is on high alert."

The go-getter, devil may care smile he received in response to that was, admittedly, fairly confident. If the cat monster had anything, it was arrogance. (He was one to talk.)

"Heh, please! With you and I together, we'll have no problem getting out of this place!" His paws smacked the bars one more time for extra effect. "You can trust me! I never go back on my word."

Even if he did—...

( _I would burn him alive and watch every little fur disintegrate off of him while the flesh beneath it melted off the bone_.)

A flash of heat passed through him that wasn't all positivity, rainbows, and butterflies, and he knew very well that Loki would hold both himself and Akechi to that unspoken promise.

"Hey," came the word of the day, black brows knitting together in concern. Akechi figured that blond wasn't his natural color. "This thing sounds like it's all talk."

But the sound of footfalls were getting closer. Taking a chance, Akechi found the key on the wall and yanking it from its hinge, coming to stand in front of the cell.

"If you go back on your word," he started, pushing the key into the slot and thinking only of Akira as he stepped forward until the beak of his mask dipped in between the bars, "You won't escape."

Just to make the cat sweat a little. That was all his low murmur was for. It certainly wasn't because his mate was nearby with a fluctuating scent washing into the air.

Thankfully, the thinly veiled threat rolled right off of the cat's fur and onto the floor as he padded out of his cell the second the door opened.

"Ahhhh... Freedom tastes so great..."

Akechi watched as the strange cat stretched and took in the over-poweringly frustrated scent of their third member - fire scorching Akira's trees, agitating Akechi's previously dead protective instinct - replying before a gasket was blown, "While I don't believe you're a real threat, I would rather err on the side of caution— what should we call you?"

It was clear enough that he didn't want to be called a _cat_ , but Akechi had to have a name. He wanted the other Alpha's name, too, but the cat took precedence.

"I," he started with a flourish, smacking his paw against his chest before continuing, "am Morgana!"

 _Morgana_ was a strange name, but Akechi couldn't talk. He nodded and, to the sound of clanking metal, introduced himself in kind.

"And I am Akechi Goro. I would say that it's a pleasure to meet you, but considering the circumstances I doubt it would be appropriate," he said before gesturing towards the metaphorical garden of life to his right. "The one with the 'frizzy hair' is Kurusu Akira. As for the blond—"

"Ryuji," he was interrupted, the lava spiking and crawling over the tree roots. "Sakamoto Ryuji. I don't need you to introduce me."

 _To a cat_ hung thickly in the air, but Akechi ignored it and plowed onwards, "—Sakamoto. Don't mind him. The fear is playing with his emotions. I'm sure he's not like this outside the Palace."

( _Closer and closer_. A clock ticking in his mind, dread flooding in as he ignored the popping bubbles in Ryuji's scent. What was the bad feeling gnawing at him called?)

The end.

"I dunno... he seems like he'd be pretty rude outside, too." Far point. Fair, but insulting, and Ryuji immediately opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but Akechi quickly tuned them out.

The bridge was down and they were being made to turn around. Perhaps if they hid well enough, they could bide some time to reach the room they flew passed earlier— the one Akechi assumed had the vent leading outside. That way, Akechi would - at the very least - get Ryuji and Akira out.

_They both seem to be running on pure adrenaline at this point, but that's bound to wear off soon._

Akechi turned to a slightly pale Akira, asking, "How are you holding up? This must be exhausting, all this running around... you're not hurt anywhere, are you?"

His concern momentarily bypassed his common sense, but his mental note of that was cut into with a breeze of temporary relief when Akira shook his head and said, "No, I'm not hurt. I'm getting tired, but I know we still have to push to get out. I'll be fine."

"I see... you came up with an excellent way to motivate yourself and strive forward. I'm impressed." Akechi nodded his approval, smile pleasant, though strained, and waved his hand to the side of him. "I'll get you and Sakamoto out in one piece, Kurusu-kun."

The soft petals of trust were cast upon his crown as Akira smiled, his gratitude in full bloom. "Thanks, Akechi. I don't know what's going on, but I trust you."

Akechi felt his entire body throb.

_Ah. Ahhhh..._

Red graced his cheeks and he sighed, very, very careful that the sheer magnitude of his (overflowing) feelings didn't rattle the Palace walls.

 _He will break you_ , Loki purred.

 _You will be reborn_ , Robin Hood murmured easily, taking a different approach.

Akechi no longer cared. He felt like he could do anything as long as he had Akira's complete and total faith; it was intoxicating.

They battled their way back, Morgana's _Zorro_ coming in handy. He only had one, but Akechi could - and did - make use of its skills, sure that they could hide when overwhelming force wasn't enough. Robin Hood was flashy and Loki leaned more towards stealth. Naturally, his outfit garnered more attention that he cared for.

The bulk of the battles could have been avoided if he'd just taken Loki's power, but that was neither here nor now.

If nothing else, they enabled Akechi to see just what Morgana could do in, as well as his own limit while using only one Persona, and that was enough for him. Anything more had him either amused or irritated. Akira's joy at Morgana's kicking feet as they hit behind walls and crates was the former.

The fact that Akira was a cat lover was no surprise, given his own disposition. It was a simple, charming little tidbit that Akechi was going to keep close to his heart.

Things were going so smoothly that, as the things to hide behind dwindled in opposition to the amount of enemies they had to hide from, Akechi _almost_ forgot that the presence in the Palace was thick and ominous. They were on their way, so close to freedom— but, as with all things, one thing stood in their way.

The Palace ruler, brazenly meeting them at the end of the dungeons, blocking their path up the stairs.

There was no where to go, but back. If they ran and hid, they could probably wait it out— if they were naive enough, perhaps, to believe that a ruler couldn't enter a Safe Room. Akechi had no experience with that and it wasn't worth a try. They were risking enough the way they were going.

"Uh oh," Morgana toned, a newfound break from his more satisfying slew of praises. Akechi preferred those. "I smell trouble."

Morgana and Akechi were both half-dry, and without being ale to use Loki, Akechi couldn't fight at full power. It would spook Akira, raise more questions than he wanted to answer, and—

"Crap!" Morgana was whining now in a hushed whisper, blissfully unaware of how Akira was watching him kick his feet behind him in blatant, unmasked adoration. Akechi was _jealous_. "I think that's the Palace's ruler... How're we gonna get passed that?"

Akechi planned on going all the way around on an assumption, but Morgana wanted to blare through in intuition. Which was worse, he wondered?

"We still have time to turn around if we mu—"

Ryuji was moving closer at Morgana's words, his interest piqued. "Palace ruler? You mean the guy who's in charge of this shit show?"

Belatedly, Akechi realized that Ryuji was the last person he needed to actually _see_ the ruler. "No, wait—" And he was fashionably _too late_ because the shock that rocked the air around them was so strong that it completely rid the air of any fear Akira or Ryuji were feeling.

Ryuji hollered.

"Kamoshida!?"

It alerted the guards and the ruler that they were there despite the previous beginnings of a talk to, maybe, get around that. _Great_.

"Ugh... good one, Ryuji," the cat bemoaned, quickly jumping up and out in front of the group at Akechi's side as the royal _posse_ began bounding down the hall. "No choice now!"

 _Kamoshida_ was dressed in the most— _unappealing_ manner. It took everything that Akechi had to keep his cool and not immediately go back on the thought of not using Loki. Akechi just—

He hated Palaces. People. Distortions. He was no less grateful for the power he received that day, but Akechi— Akechi loathed the rotten underbelly of the world where he threw his power around for the sake of his goal. He wanted to destroy it _all_ until there was nothing left.

Not even ash.

(And, boy, with the scene in front of him, did the end ever justify the means.)

No choice was right. Akechi readied his saber and held it tight to his closed fist, at the ready as Kamoshida took them all in in his glittering crown and plush red, fur-lined cape.

"Hmph... I thought it was some petty thief who snuck into my castle, but to think it'd be you, Sakamoto..."

Oh. _Great_. They were on such bad terms that Kamoshida's subconscious took careful note. _Wonderful. Just what we needed_.

Except that, in actuality, it was about as wonderful as a stem of rose thorns to the eye, systematically, one by one, and Akechi was so _wiped_. Akira was a little ways back with Ryuji, his fear back full force both apprehensive and confused, and Morgana was at Akechi's side with his fur on end and his body poised.

Kamoshida was small fry compared to the other Palace rulers Akechi had met - he could feel how _weak_ he was in his bones - but with two civilians and a stranger with the same power as him at his side, Akechi was forced to reevaluate the situation as best as he could.

"Would it be too much to ask for you to allow us safe passage to the outside?" Maybe, just maybe, he could still talk his way out of this entire mess. "I'm afraid three of us are late for previous engagements. This entire thing was a mistake— a slip of tongue, if you will."

It couldn't be so easy, could it?

—

It wasn't.

—

His head was pounding.

His vision turned fuzzy around the edges and every sound tuned out to ringing; heat crawled over his skin, little fire ants from the documentary he watched late last Friday on a march across his flesh, and Loki was— _silent_. Akechi would be surprised if what he could see before him wasn't tunneling into the singular exit currently writhing against the wall a Shadow is pinning him to - Pixie with a Garu, he surmised - head in his hands, mouth open in a silent scream. Red liquid was running down his face—

Blood.

Akira was bleeding. Bleeding red blood, crimson blood, like the white flowers in the story Akechi read passively along the way, thrust forth with stark clarity.

_The white flowers will turn red._

_Don't touch him._

He was holding a mask— black and white, more masquerade than _fight_ , more dance than rebel, but there was rebellion and survival in dancing as well. Black and blue was beginning to crawl over his own skin in retaliation, begging for a fight.

Where did that desire come from?

Muffled shouting reached his ears and Akechi recognized where it was coming from: the self-proclaimed King, the disgusting, worthless vermin that he was, cowering before the power in front of his eyes. Akechi had no time— his head was throbbing, Loki was coming ahead, the World Tree was shuddering—

The blue flames, at least, were familiar. _So, he came to greet you before he became yours_?

Cold.

He was cold.

_Loki, no._

Akira was smiling and two large black wings were spread behind him. What Person was that? Akechi had never fought it before, much like Zorro, but he was sure that, beyond the air in the castle trying to choke him out, it was solely Akira's— and in that moment, Akechi felt like he'd failed.

And, it finally occured to him.

_Ah, was that what that feeling was before?_

Akechi failed, and it was too big a pill to swallow.

—

Eiga.

He was weak, but he could be polished from porcelain to steel.

— 

The Shadows they were facing off against were weaker still than even Akira's freshly born mask.

Kamoshida cowered and Ryuji personally took to grabbing him by his ankles and forcing him into a nearby cell, locking it tight with Arsene, Zorro, and Robin Hood as temporary bodyguards. Even though they were all tired and could use several naps all the way across the board, they maintained a facade of strength.

Ryuji seemed too giddy, though. He was the type to let the power get to his head; they'd caught Kamoshida off guard, so there was no telling how strong he actually was.

Of course, none of that mattered at the end of the day. Every Shadow was weak to a bullet to the head. The same could be said for every single person in the world; Akechi was glad that that simple, well-known fact remained the same no matter where his feet stepped.

The flames flickering from magenta to yellow to every other color on the spectrum seemed more alive at that thought.

When Akira's power destabilized, his entire outfit crumbled like blue ash. Akechi watched it, vaguely fascinated (seeing it from the outside was so interesting), before catching how pale Akira looked and stuffing the need to observe him more closely down a vacant sewer.

"Hm, it looks like you don't have full control over your power yet. The transformation doesn't normally dissolve like that. After all—"

"We don't have time," Akechi interrupted sharply, stepping close to Akira's side in case he tipped over like the swaying branches of a weeping willow. "I think Kurusu-kun and Sakamoto have had enough excitement for today. We can talk more when we're in the clear."

His unspoken order hung thick in the air, making Morgana narrow his big blue eyes and eventually agree, "You're right. If we wanna escape this place in one piece, we need to go!"

One of his paws reached out, however, handing Akechi three small bottles that Akechi easily identified. _Medicine_.

"But first, take these and use them carefu—"

Akechi was already moving, handing one of the bottles off to both Ryuji and Akira, saying, "Use this, please. When we leave, you do still need to return to school in one piece."

"—you're not even listening to me!!"

And, at the last minute, he popped open the last bottle while kneeling down. He grabbed Morgan by the scruff - his scarf snagging over Akechi's thumb - and tipped his head back, dumping the contents into his loud mouth without a care for Morgana's own quick tongue.

(Would Akira be proud of him? Smile, and be happy he tended to them all without worry for himself? It didn't really matter, he supposed, if he was injured or running low on power; it felt like if he switched into Loki's skin, he'd recover as quickly as he depleted it all. The very thought of being in a higher standing with Akira made him giddy with his own happiness.)

Morgana coughed after Akechi let him go, whining while Akechi straightened himself out and collected the empty bottles from a slightly less pale Akira and a mildly disgusted Ryuji.

"Now that we're done with that minute detour," Akechi started, tossing the bottles behind him with the hope that he tossed them far enough to smack Kamoshida in the face. _Disgusting Metaverse trash._ "It's high time that we leave."

He accepted absolutely zero smack talk and took point, booking it back up the stairs they came down from previously. Akira, as dear as he was to Akechi's high instinct, dumbly shoved his knobby shoulder set against a closed door as if they had all the time in the world.

Was that going to be a common place habit? While it was endearing earlier, it was slightly irritating now and Akechi left with the distinct impression that he would have to put Akira on a leash.

_Maybe one for children would work? He toddles around curious enough to be one. It would be fitting—_

( _I could take care of him, keep him away from this place, this world—_ )

No.

Akechi had to get away from Akira no matter how much his body protested. It was the only way he'd regain his equilibrium and better judgement skills.

Thankfully, he didn't have to tell Akira to stop and they were right back on track. The drawbridge waa just up ahead and—

"Hold on a sec!"

There was someone in a cell, maskless, and donning a red uniform. It was a sports uniform - likely, anyway - with Shujin written on the back. Akechi still felt like his entire body was pulsating, but it was time to play as the attentive detective.

He let Ryuji wander off to the cell, muttering, "I feel like I've seen what this dude's wearin' before..." Before Akechi could follow up that comment with his own observation - from the volleyballs, to the screaming people in cages, to the thought that there was more they hadn't seen - Ryuji ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Dammit! I'm too flustered! I feel like it's comin' back to me, but the next thing I know, it floats away!"

"Recognizing one's own weaknesses is a special talent. May I offer my own insight?"

That got his attention. Ryuji turned to him confused, but interested. "Huh?"

"He seems to be wearing one of Shujin's sports uniforms. Perhaps, from the many volleyballs we've seen around the castle, he's on your school's volleyball team?"

Ryuji's eyes went dark and wide, his mouth slanting into a frown. "Then— we should get him out of here, right? What if he's trapped, too?"

God. It wasn't like they were trying to free a mouse from a glue traps; cognitions were stuck.

"That won't be necessary. You see, that person is just a cognition," Akechi explained, letting his experience show. He had no choice. Even if he simply pretending to have only been in one Palace before, he'd be stuck having to explain how he survived. "There's nothing you can do for him. Let's lower the drawbridge and be on our way."

"Hey, hold on a second—"

He wouldn't. Akechi strode over to the cross-armed Kamoshida statue, saying, "We can talk about it some more when we're outside. You said yourself that you're too flustered to think clearly, so the fresh air will help."

_Let yourself be led._

And, just to make sure the storm would pass, Akechi pulled the stone jaw down, the drawbridge gearing into motion and lowering.

"Let's find somewhere that we can relax without the threat of an attack."

Knowing that was logic no one could fight with, Morgana, Akira, and Ryuji's - after one last frustrated noise and hesitating misstep - presences all went dynamic. There was some trace displeasure, some acceptance, and the cat smelled _pleased_ , but Akechi tasked himself with the gargantuan task of getting the two teenagers out of Kamoshida's Palace. Like hell he was going to fail at that.

Two Alphas butting heads was obnoxiously hard to field, though. The fact that Ryuji heeled, Akechi realized as they were crossing the bridge, was... interesting.

_Sakamoto displays all of the outward signs of an Alpha. His scent is heavily musky, aggressive, and domineering. If I had to guess what type of Alpha he was... I would say that he's a Type A like myself— goal driven and quick to anger. Though, he tips more towards the anger, doesn't he?_

Akechi certainly had a lot of anger - at Shido, at his foster parents, at his _adoptive_ parent - at the world, for dealing him the hand it had. And he would see to it, naturally, that it crashed and burned right before his very eyes.

That was the inevitable conclusion.

(Some _hero_ he was. Wasn't it saving the world still if they all yearned so strongly for death? For someone, still, who would lead them to an answer, the slaughter, like the sheep they were?)

 _Yes_ , Loki hissed, braids coiling around Akechi's limbs. _You are not wrong. Destroy it all._

As if it was being carried by the wind, a soft tenor reached his ears, soft and soothing:

 _But, didn't you wanna be loved? Who will love you if everyone is gone? Are you just gonna reset yourself as well?_ And then, even softer, a whisper holding fast: _Hey, is that what you really want?_

They were back where they'd started, now, the same as he was. Yes, as long as he focused on his goal, he could still—

"Akechi?"

His world erupted into beautiful snow white and soft blue, blowing away his budgeoning resolve as they pushed from one side of the room to the other and stopped in the middle of the hall. Akira had called his name.

_Akira— Kurusu-kun— who am I? What am I doing?_

He smelled concerned, so Akechi smiled and overflowed with friendly vigor that he hoped would melt the fallen snow while it was still fresh back into a black and white checkerboard.

Morgana opened his mouth first to announce their success on their short term goal of escape, Ryuji whooped his relief, and Akira hovered at Akechi's side as if he intuitively understood where he was needed the most. That sort of intuition could either save his life or get him killed— Akechi supposed it depended on the circumstance.

"It's not opening! Did you trick us, you jerk!?" Ryuji's voice and thunderous indignition. _Wonderful. Definitely anger._

"Don't jump to conclusions! Over here!"

An open hall in a room. Torches, banners with Kamoshida's face, and— _bookshelves_.

Akechi turned to Akira and realized his eyes were already on the vent. _Good_. Ryuji was still angry, however. 

"Where are we supposed to get out from here!? There aren't even any windows!" 

How simple could someone get? Morgana seemed inclined to agree, "Ugh, amateur... This is the most basic of basics."

Resisting the ever-present urge to roll his eyes, Akechi let Akira chime in first like a know-it-all teacher's pet, saying, "The ventilation shaft?"

"Ingenius," Akechi praised, smiling from ear to ear. "As expected of you, Kurusu-kun. We can use the vent to get outside. I do recall seeing one on the outer walls on the way in."

"How'd you even have the time to 'see one on the outer walls'?" Ryuji was asking, but he just sounded tired. All the running - or perhaps the emotional exhaustion - was likely getting to him. "So, all we gotta do is get that mesh off, right?"

Akechi didn't get the chance to give or detail his affirmative as he watched the other Alpha run right up to the bookcase and scale it with wiggling ankles. He knocked into the mesh so strongly that when he grabbed it for security, one volatile tug outwards was all it took to take it right off.

Unfortunately, that also send Ryuji careening back with mesh in hand, and meant that Akechi would have to play the _hero_ again.

Robin Hood manifested without another thought, catching the wayward student in his thick arms and setting him down on the floor without so much as a peep. It was some degree of interesting observing how small and gangly Ryuji was compared to Robin Hood. He was usually behind Akechi, so—

 _No_ , he told himself, smelling Ryuji's fascination. _Another time. I need to get Kurusu-kun out of the Metaverse and safely to school with a good excuse._

"Hey." Sharp interest cut through him and he snapped out of his daze to at least acknowledge Ryuji's rugged tone. "Thanks."

Gratitude, once more. Elated, Akechi nodded and said, "You're very welcome! I can't imagine that that would have been a very kind landing."

The grimace on Ryuji's face told Akechi all that he needed to know, and— truly, he empathized. He overshot his sensory check in Mementos and a team of Shadows chased him up three sets of concrete block once. It was unpleasant.

Good, relieved cheer flooded his senses and he was met with drooped shoulders and pitifully bright eyes.

"Seriously, we're finally getting out of here..."

_Yes. Finally, Kurusu-kun will be safe._

"You should wait on the celebrating until you're actually outside," Morgana edged in. Akechi was inclined to agree and wasted no time slipping behind Akira to begin herding him towards the vent.

Ryuji seemed to need to be told twice. "But... what about you?"

Akechi didn't care about the cat anymore with the exit in sight, but he paused once he had Akira on top of the right most table and turned to listen to what Morgana had to say.

"There's something I still have to do. We're going our separate ways."

 _But what do you still have to do here?_ If Morgana was going to kill the Palace's ruler, then Akechi would be willing to covertly assist. After all, Kamoshida hurt Akira in this place; Akechi was justified in at least taking a shot at him.

Of course, he could also be thinking about - perhaps - talking him into a reformation. Akechi wasn't very fond of talking the trash with Palaces into rehabilitation. Nine out of ten times, they still lashed out and it was fairly messy. Shido rarely had a target with a true Palace, Okumura less so, so he didn't have to venture inside of them often, but...

The world of darkness underground was so much easier to deal with by comparison. The Shadows protected nothing but themselves and were significantly weaket.

Palaces were a different kind of thrill.

( _A different level of pain_ —)

"Don't get caught this time," Akira tossed back, showing some cheek that made Morgana grin from one furry ear to the other.

"Heh! You better be careful, too." And then his big baby blues landed on Akechi, bringing him right back to reality. "I wanted to talk to you some more, but I guess it's gotta wait. I'll come find you in the real world!"

 _...oh?_ Loki stirred at that, but Akechi just nodded. "I'll look forward to it, then. Goodbye for now."

"See ya!"

Akira jumped, Ryuji followed, and Akechi made sure to linger long enough to make sure they'd stay safe.

 _Not a threat_ , Loki reminded.

Maybe so. _Yggdrasil's roots?_

—

There was a bag in front of him that smelled like coffee. Curry. Akira, too, and some measure of himself, his own. Innocent and inconspicuous.

He'd dropped it on the way in. _How careless_.

Akechi picked up the bag of food and clutched both it and his attaché case tight, straightening out. He immediately flared his scent out in search of Akira's before realizing there was no need.

He was being assaulted by dreamscapes of storybook wonderlands, finding the scent hittint him as hard as it ever had before. Instinctively, Akechi breathed in real deep, catching fireflies in the corner of his right eyes and seeing Akira holding his phone.

"You have returned to the real world. Welcome back."

Ah, yes. The navigator was always cordial and professional, but Ryuji's confusion sunk in deep, still disbelieving— _a blasphemous nonbeliever_.

Akechi couldn't find his rage anymore. Again, he was being accosted by the relief and amazement in Akira's scent, helplessly dragged along without his consent. _No, this isn't what I—_

"What _was_ all that anyway...? That castle and Kamoshida, and that weird cat!" His eyes found Akechi. "The hell's goin' on!?"

"...if you would calm down for a moment—"

"What's with the yelling? Are you students of Shujin?"

 _Idiot_.

An officer on a bicycle and another - likely on break - were approaching them, eyes narrowed at the two students Akechi was currently with as if they were being suspected of—

"Cutting class, are we?"

—that. _Ugh_. Ryuji was stuttering like he was guilty without doubt of the crime he was being accused of, but before he could incriminate himself further than 'we were tryin' to get to school', Akechi cut in.

"My apologies, officers," he began, stepping in front of Akira and Ryuji both as a shield. _Beta. Don't they have something better to be doing than bothering us?_ "I was following a lead for one of my cases and it led me right to these two. We've been exchanging information all morning— I'm afraid I got ahead of myself and lost track of time, so I was in the process of walking them back to Shujin, intent on explaining the situation to the principal."

Play the good boy, the sparkling Detective Prince— Akechi made sure he was smiling (check), posturing sweet and innocent (check), and seeming telling the truth as he tried, valiantly, to steer the attention to himself.

 _Look at me, not them._ Commanding, not asking, without anyone being any the wiser.

He gained their attention just as he'd hoped and the younger officer squinted at him with slowly dawning recognition. "...weren't you with Prosecuter Nijima yesterday?"

"That's correct! You have a good eye for detail, don't you?" A little praise, the earned bashfulness— "Ah, but where are my manners? I'm Akechi Goro, a rookie detective. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance...?"

"Saihara!" A hand gestured to the officer without the bike, his expression warming and his scent spiking excitedly when he realized he was speaking to a fellow law enforcer. Easy. "And this is Utsumi-san. Now that I have a better look at you, I always see you on tv, Akechi-san! Sorry I didn't recognize you— you're the talk of the precinct!"

"Ah-ha... thank you, Saihara-san, but I really am just a rookie. I'm happy to be acknowledged ny officers as dutiful as yourself and Utsumi-san," he responded, finding that he didn't desire to gag as badly with Akira at his back. It was strange what one's mate's scent could do for the mood. "If it's the same to you, however, I'd like to relinquish Kurusu-kun and Sakamoto to their classes. I've already taken up so much of their time."

Utsumi's suspicion had eased off as much as Saihara's had, though he still seemed a bit hesitant. Akechi wondered if he shouldn't play up the situation a little more, but he quickly realized that there was no need.

The elder officer caved like a stack of cards.

"...that's fine, if that's how it is. Be more conscious next time, though," he said, inciting Akechi's urge to roll his eyes. "Not everyone is as lenient as we are."

"Of course. Thank you for your time and cooperation." Akechi wasted no time in turning around and (gently) taking Akira's shoulder in one hand and (firmly) grabbing Ryuji's with the other. "Now... to Shujin."

Ryuji was as flabbergasted as Akechi expected, but the shock made him obedient and pliable. He was blissfully silent for all of thirty seconds, too, giving them ample time to _get away_.

All good things had to come to an end eventuallt, however.

"W-wait a second! You're a cop!?"

With all the mirth in the world, Akechi let both students go and continued the walk to Shujin, smiling.

"A _detective_ , Sakamoto."

(He didn't miss Akira's eyes on him and didn't miss his own urge to preen under Akira's gaze. _Look at me_.)

—

Akechi checked his watch as they approached the school for the second time that day.

Lunchtime.

Predictably, Ryuji dissolved into a series of disbelieving statements before someone Akechi assumed was one of Shujin's faculty membets stepped out to question, presumanbly, question them. Akechi recognized the smell even though it was a little peculiar to try and place him without the fancy getup.

"Kamoshida!?"

Of course. _The man we saw in the car earlier who stinks of distortion._

He still did, though it was dulled further by the scent of fresh rain and benign fairytales. Kamoshida had a hand on his hip, lips pulled into a budgeoning flat line, dropping enough information as he spoke to them for Akechi's mind to feast upon later. Akechi was correct, though.

They didn't get along, he and Ryuji.

Two Alphas butting heads—

'Carefree,' 'track team,' 'it's your fault'— that fake smile that he gave them all as he realized that Akechi was standing there, putting himself instinctively between Kamoshida and the boys behind him. Akechi didn't have time to be playing games.

A shield, again.

"...I'm not privy to anything that happens at Shujin, but I have to ask: is it really in anyone's best interests if you continue to hold us here? There two are already fairly late and I would hate to keep them from their studies."

He was already sick of having to pretend to be civil, but lies and deceit came naturally to him. The best lie was one that was coated in a sheer layer of truth.

The questioning look that he got in response was quick to flit away when those same brown eyes found Akira over his shoulder. Immediately, Akechi felt his hackles raising and the urge to hide Akira from Kamoshida's eyes was singing in his veins.

"No, you're right, but... isn't that the new transfer student? Kurusu Akira, right?" His brow drew tight and _threatthreatthreat_ flew lightning fast through his scent. "Have we... met somewhere?"

_Get your filthy eyes off of him, you swine._

"We met briefly at the station," Akechi answered, glad that Akira was content to let him keep putting words in his mouth. "We were with the girl you gave a ride to."

"Huh... that's right. I remember now. You were taking shelter from the rain," Kamoshida said with a slow nod, propping both hands on his hip, now. He looked and seemed like a proper adult. "I'm sure you've heard from the principal, Kurusu, but cause any trouble and you'll be expelled. Understood?"

_Tipping, tipping..._

The air must have been sizzling with Akechi's thunderous anger because Kamoshida was looking at him again with the same questioning look from earlier. It was something that he knew he needed to keep checked— any more, and Kamoshida may end up picking up on and exploiting Akechi's hostility.

Akechi wanted to grind him into the dirt where he belonged. _Scum._

"Aren't you a teacher?" Akechi began his ascent up the stairs, sure that Ryuji and Akira would soon follow. His head felt stuffed up and heated. "You're making a sure effort to cover it up, but the judgement in your scent... it would be terrible of the other students picked up on it, so do be careful. You have a duty to maintain your professionalism at all times."

"And who are you to be telling me that? Why are you with Kurusu and Sakamoto?"

He was getting tired of repeating himself, but Akechi smiled from the seventh level of hell anyway.

"Oh, I'm just a rookie detective on official business," he lied right through his teeth, smelling something like approval leaking into the air behind him. "I just finished questioning these two on a lead that I was following... it was quite insightful, but I fear I've held them long enough. I'll explain that to their teachers and principal so that they won't be held accountable for the trouble that I've undoubtedly caused."

Curiosity, now. _Got him._ "Oh yeah? A lead on what, if you don't mind me asking?"

("Please, help me!")

"It's just some rumors about a faculty member here who may be mistreating the students." _Ah. Surprise, shock, aggression— type A._ "Oh, while I have you here— would you happen to know anything about that? I'm quite concerned."

Kamoshida's eyes turned sharp as he carefully curbed his malice, his pointed hatred, and shook his head. "Not at all. If you do find anything, could you let me know? To think that an adult at our prestigious academy is abusing the students... it could just be teenager gossip, but if it's true, it's terrible."

"Yes, I have to agree..." It felt like there were eyes burning into his back and— way to be subtle, Ryuji. "My source is so frightened, they won't even allow me to reveal their identity until a proper case is built." 

How very, very sad. He was setting himself up for work that he'd really have to pull his weight in.

It would protect Akira, though, wouldn't it? The less distortions around his mate, the better.

Akechi's head jerked to the side and he hummed, as if remembering something important. "My apologies. Here I am, losing track of time again... I'll be taking these two to the faculty office. If you do hear anything, I'll leave my contact information in the office for you and the others. It would be best if we all had an open line of communication."

When all was said and done, Akechi sealed his own fate. He had no choice but to actively pursue the case he just gave himself until the very end.

_No choice, no choice..._

—

"Kurusu-kun, Sakamoto— the faculty office is this way."

_Everyone is scared of him! He's with Sakamoto, too— who is that other boy, though?_

_Isn't that Akechi-kun!?_

Whispers. Gossip, all around him, completely claiming and disintegrating his brain cells one by one. _I... truly think I can feel myself becoming stupider by the second... what a shame._

Akira, either not caring or not sensing the precarious situation, walked right up to the teacher standing near the lockers for some light conversation. It was as pleasant as predicted.

"So, you're the problem student? Late on the first day, too. You like causing trouble for the school?"

"Oh boy," Ryuji groaned, shaking his head. "Here we go."

"This is just a misunderstanding."

"Hmph. Excuses are useless. Do you even want to be reformed? I bet this is a good sign of what you'll be like here."

"I bet," Akechi began, flanking to Akira's left side. His shield, his sword— "The school board may want to hear about this exchange. It's one thing for the students to be shunning him and spreading gossip, but the staff as well? Surely you should be setting an example of forgiveness and acceptance, even while maintaining a stern stance. For you to be encouraging the students's behavior through your own prejudice... how shameful."

The whiplash from his reprimand set in quick and lingered, prompting Akechi to murmur a soft command to a startled Akira and a grinning Ryuji to continue moving forward without fail. Akechi didn't have time for anyone's tomfoolery.

But, as they kept walking—

_I hear he hides a bunch of dangerous stuff in his bag..._

_So, that's him? That's the guy with the criminal record?_

Second floor, moving down the hall—

_Drinking, smoking, theft... I heard this guy's done it all._

"Jeez... the gossip's getting ridiculous," Ryuji murmured, obediently - strangely enough - following Akechi with his hands in his pockets. "Like they know him just from hearing that he has a record... stupid."

"Indeed. It's not surprising, however— even though Kurusu-kun looks incapable of those accusations." 

They were all fools, but they grated his nerves none the less. Akechi imagined that was just how it was, though. Akira was his.

_So, he's the transfer student people were talking about online..._

_The transfer student's gotten involved in a lot of shady stuff._

"Yes. He even conspired with the dust bunnies hiding in the crates's cracks to doubleteam my sinuses."

"...Akechi..."

"This is... ridiculous, Kurusu-kun."

They reached the faculty room in due time, weaving between students both curious and interested in himself. Ryuji stopped him before going in, though, and took out his phone.

"Gimme your number."

His number? How out of sorts. Akechi hummed, rattling it off quietly, and they went into the office without further delay. He didn't have anymore time to ask why, or explain the very valid answer 'no'; in hindsight, it was better that he had Ryuji's number. If he was going to see this case through, then he had little choice, but to play along.

Akira's homeroom teacher, upon meeting her, was— plain, in yellow and black. Normal, and very Beta, her sigh speaking several different levels of disappointment and her scent overflowing with antsy tiredness. Akechi didn't really _care_ , per se, but... 

Was she getting enough sleep? He was fairly sure there were cleverly concealed bags under her eyes.

Well, it was none of his business. He doubted it had anything to do with the case.

Before she could say anything deragatory and thin the line he'd cross to crush his enemies, Akechi summoned up every remaining fibre of his dwindling patience and shriveled up good will (whatever _that_ was, recently born selfishly) and smiled bright.

Lights. Camera. Action.

—

_Fair warning his hind end._

—

"Heh. Sounds like you had one hell of a day, kid."

"Ugh... so, even you find amusement in my misfortune."

"You know it ain't like that." There was some shuffling, distinctive clicking— was he modifying something? Did Akechi call at a bad time? "If your new friends are that much trouble, why're you insisting on helping them? You always kick pains in the ass to the curb— and don't give me that good boy detective answer, either."

Akechi sighed, leaning against the soft back of his couch at home, letting his aggravation leak through his tone, "I've known one for three days and the other for one. That's hardly enough time to consider someone a... _friend_." The man on the other end _snickered_ and Akechi felt the entire line of his brow twitch at once. "And besides _that_ obvious fact... I've already committed myself to the case."

"Uh huh." _Snap_. "Well, feel free to stop by the shop with your friends and suit 'em up. We actually just got a new model in that's usually really hard to get ahold of for a cartoon collector's item— it does that _pew pew_ thing that you like."

 _Oh my god._ Akechi held his dinosaur phone away from his face to stare at it with wide eyes, absolutely frazzled. Why did he let himself be coerced by this man again?

He put it back to his ear and oh so carefully rose his free hand to push his hair behind his ear.

"Thank you. I'll try to put aside some time soon to come in and pick it up."

"Great," he heard, sensing strange enthusiasm through the receiver. "I'll set aside some protective gear for you, too. Should still be useful for your excursions."

"A-alright." Anything for business, he supposed. Akechi felt a little light-headed from the (kindness) courtesy. "I should get going now. I still need to explain what happened to Sakura-san so Kurusu-kun is covered for tonight. I apologize for bothering you during work hours."

Smoker deep gruffness greeted him in a short cough. He couldn't be smoking in the store, but his past was still hacking at him one expulsion at a time. "I'm sure your buddy will appreciate that. It's good that you're taking care of him," he said, clearing his throat. "But make sure not to get into anymore trouble with the cops. It's been slow lately, but I feel like it's gonna start picking up soon. Watch out."

No kidding. Akechi had so much on his plate now that he thought he'd explode soon from the stress alone. Stress killed people, didn't it?

Well, he was resiliant. He couldn't die yet.

"Oh, right... I almost forgot." Akechi gave a soft, curious hum in response, waiting for the words to tumble out of his mouth. "Kaoru wanted to know if you'd make it to family night. He said somethin' about wanting to find out which cram school you were going to so he could see if he couldn't transfer there— kid's been asking about you a lot these days, actually. You should come visit."

Family.

Visit.

He didn't want to do that. If it was at all possible and the social workers weren't visiting, Akechi wanted to avoid thinking about that problem as much as already had. He only called because he didn't want to cause any trouble if a scuffle went down. When it came to _family_ —

He couldn't. He didn't understand, didn't know what to _do_ after the circumstances that made their relation come to fruition, and he was sure his attitude was making him seem like a bad son after Iwai went ahead and took him in (Akechi didn't want to think at length about that), but there was nothing that he could do. Akechi was going down a one-way road at full speed, intent on destroying everything in his path.

That was what he wanted, after all. There was no room on that path to play house.

"Goro?"

"—I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, smoothing out the wrinkles in his scent, his mood. "I'm going to be busier than usual for a while, but I can text him the school if that's what he wants."

"Alright. You go do what you need to do. Still got a room at the house, and the door's always open."

_You're always welcome._

His hand gripped tighter around the phone and he rose from his couch, itching for his sword. His gun. Anything to calm his heart.

Couldn't cope. Couldn't trust.

"Thank you, Iwai-san."

—

???: Hey.  
???: It's Ryuji.

 _Sakamoto_.

Oh, God. Don't tell him he was a serial casual and spontaneous texter.

 _Akechi_ : Good afternoon. Was there something you needed?  
_Sakamoto_ : Yeah!  
_Sakamoto_ : I was wondering if you could meet us on Shujin's rooftop. I wanted to talk about what happened today.  
_Akechi_ : By 'us,' I'm assuming that you mean Kurusu-kun as well?  
_Akechi_ : Unfortunately, I'm a little busy right now.  
_Sakamoto_ : Oh. You at work?  
_Akechi_ : That would be correct. There were a few matters that I needed to look into, so I decided to come in after all today.  
_Akechi_ : However, I was thinking of having breakfast at the Diner tomorrow if the two of you would like to meet then.  
_Sakamoto_ : Hell yeah. Count us in.  
_Akechi_ : Very well. I'll see you then.

—

("Well, I gotta admit that it's a little weird to be manifesting in the Justice Arcana. Will I become the World?" He asked, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling. He smelled neither Alpha nor Omega; not Beta, either, Akechi surmised from a quick sniff. 

Then again, all he could see were his eyes. How could he expect a gigantic black mass to smell like anything, but mystery?

"Sorry," he apologized quickly, a long, wispy tendril extending before him. "You're not ready yet. I know I have to take it slow. Ah, but don't get me wrong— I was really excited to meet you, so I got a little ahead of myself! Honestly, I didn't think it was possible for either of us to come back."

Us? Who was he even talking to? Why did he feel so familiar?

Why couldn't Akechi speak?

"I can wait for you. However long it takes, I'll be waiting," he added, sounding— happy. It was then that Akechi could smell him, his eager anticipation smelling like sunflowers on a bright, sunny say. " _We'll_ be waiting. You're pretty amazing for giving us this chance, you know that?")

—

Just when he thought things couldn't get any more complicated, a breath of relief breezed in passed the orchids in the kitchen the next morning.

 **Irritant** : Have you been watering the plants, Goro-kun?

Scowling, Akechi yanked open the cabinet doors beneath his kitchen sink and dragged the watering can out from beneath it with grogginess lacing his movements. Trailing outside, he quickly found the downstairs collection bins and yawned while shoving his open can beneath one of the spouts, giving it time to fill.

His apartment complex homed a bunch of agriculture nuts and on _her_ recommendation he moved in and took up a bunch of, quote on quote, _flower babies_ as a recreational hobby that would 'foster his empathy' and create quick conversation for any nuts he ran into. At the time, Akechi wondered just how many people actually liked flowers enough to chat about them and open up to him.

He miscalculated severely. The communal garden was a quick five minute walk from the apartment complex and the building owner herself let her tenants keep a few flower beds around the building itself with the promise that they would be taken care of.

"They're pretty," he remembered her reasoning. "And they'll bring in more potential buyers."

He understood that logic as ham-fisted as it seemed and moved on with his life no longer questioning her landlordian decisions. It wasn't any skin off of his back and they _were_ pretty— pointless, sure, but very pretty.

Except, Akechi was only supposed to grow one insignificant bed to have something to talk about.

Her advice worked backwards for him and, somehow, he started buying more and more seeds as time went on. One thing led to another and, well—

The red and white snapdragons were the easiest to feed and bloomed supple and sweet on the far window sill in his living room. The red roses and soft blue hydrangea lining the fence and walls outside were a partially silent community effort; the pink zinnia and orange cosmos, however, were all him.

As for the untouched camellia in the small pot in his room, or the orchid eating up the sunshine in the kitchen... they were works in progress. The camellia itself was a gift from the old lady next door's granddaughter for winter. 

(He remembered having to stop by to see the florist at the mall for tips while only slight dodging his fans. She had the most pleasant smile.)

The orchid, on the other hand—

 _Why am I doing this_ , he asked himself not for the first time, and yawned big and wide as he made it back upstairs and watered the dry soil of his snapdragons. Letting his eyes droop and his head nod, the sudden splash of cold that ran over his chest when he lost his hold on the watering can—

It made him want to smash his fist through a wall, scream, and then cry, all in that order.

The most he did, however, was hiss in contempt and try again.

 **Irritant** : Remember florescent bulbs!

And then, not even ten seconds later—

 **Irritant** : Maybe you should invest in a sunshelf? They're expensive, but very useful. You ended up with a western style apartment, so you should have the room. I know you don't have many personal possessions.

 _Or_ , Akechi began to reason, rubbing the edge of his thumb against one of the bulbs of his ever-growing orchid, _I could give them to Nakamura-san next door and simply be done with this facade._

Orchids were already difficult enough to grow if you were unlucky enough to thoughtlessly get a variety of orchid that wouldn't thrive inside a home.

Putting his watering can back where it belonged after taking care of his archnemesis (the orchid) and his late bloomer (the camellia), Akechi set out to finish the rest of his morning routine with a long, suffering sigh.

A sudden crash from the back room had him slamming his canister down and darting for it in alarm, however, wide awake and eyes wide. The door gave immediately and when Akechi spotted the problem, his jaw dropped, aghast.

The window was wide open and there was a cat and a potted plant on the floor, its pot shattered into sharp pieces. There was soil scatter all across the hard wood and the poor, innocent baby hydrangea plant on the inside—

Tipped over.

Several levels of anger rushed through him and the cat groaned, eeped, and jumped back all at once, screeching near-megaphone loud, "H-hang on a second! It's not what it looks like!!"

"..."

The anger rushed right out of him like the air out of a balloon once popped.

He recognized that childlike voice. ("I'll come find you in the real world.")

"A-a talking cat...!?"

God, this was not the time for a morning breakdown. He was supposed to plant that hydrangea plant outside in the summer. He was so, _so_ close, but now his landlady was going to hang him by his toes and his _neighbors_ , god, this was his responsibility and—

Ah. It felt like his entire body was spasming.

"Hey! I'm not a ca— where are you going!? Akechi!!"

"Rope... vaccuum... ah, do I tie him up first, or clean up the mess beforehand? My hydrangea..."

"Don't tie me up!" Yowling, the cat followed him out of the room and into his, tracking dirt along the way and igniting every OCD nerve in his body to spontaneously catch fire. "Listen to me for a second!"

There was no way he was going to stop and _listen_. There was a talking cat in his house who just knocked over the hydrangea that was _his_ responsibility to take care of, and now Akechi was probably going to die a different death each second his neighbors look at him with their non-judgemental old lady eyes.

Even worse? Their affection. The pinching, the cooing, the— god, the forgiveness, just rubbing in his failure like concealer.

The day hadn't even properly started. Akechi hadn't left his _apartment_ yet and he already needed a nap.

("Haha... looks like we have our work cut out for us, don't we?")

—


End file.
